


A Divine Work

by imprimatur13



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Kara no Kyoukai | The Garden of Sinners, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Persona 4, Tsukihime
Genre: Alternate Summoning, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imprimatur13/pseuds/imprimatur13
Summary: Kayneth summons a Servant, but she's not the one he was hoping for. Was she, perhaps, the Servant he deserved? The ramifications of this, that flow out like ripples on a pond struck by a rock, will change the face of the 4th Holy Grail War.(Previously called 'The Pride of the Archibalds.')





	1. The Pride of the Archibalds

**Author's Note:**

> So this story had sat around in my drafts, half-finished, for the past couple weeks. When I saw it was going to expire tomorrow, I decided that enough was enough; and so, after diligent labour to a soundtrack of Touhou music and Caramelldansen, it is now complete. Hope you like it!
> 
> Note: The above was written when this story was still a one-shot. I have since decided to continue it, hence the presence of subsequent chapter(s). Hope you like the rest too!

Lord Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald sniffed the musty air of his workshop. He looked around at the tables laden with beakers, at the bookshelves containing fraying volumes written in the oldest languages of man, and finally -- at the summoning circle drawn on the ground. Yes, his student -- what was his name? -- had done an acceptable job with that, and though he felt there was room for improvement, he could address those areas  _ad hoc._

His gaze shifted to one table in particular, and to the red box upon it. He walked over to it, and touched its finely grained wooden exterior. The grooves his hands traced on the box only served to whet his anticipation. He pronounced a spell --  _aperire, mei capsula --_ and the golden lock on the box unlatched itself. As the box opened before him, he felt he could sense the magical energy emanating from its contents.

He allowed it to open fully before putting his hand inside, removing the faded, slightly torn cloth. He was struck by the purity of its crimson hue, and then reminded himself that it was so, so much more than just a cloth. For this was an ancient artifact, once worn by the King of Conquerors himself, Alexander son of Philip, of Macedon; and he knew that with this, his victory over -- and humiliation of -- his enemies in the Fourth Holy Grail War was assured.

Filled with excitement at what would surely come, he placed the cloth on the prepared pedestal, and inspected the summoning circle drawn in mercury on the floor. While there were some imperfections, he felt that those would be insufficient to get in the way of the ritual, due to the sheer power of the artifact, as well as his own prodigious magical abilities. The only way to be assured of perfection in the work would have been to do it himself, but he was far too busy making the arrangements for delivery of the artifact. Let the menial tasks be left to those low persons suited for them, and nothing else. A smile fills his face, as he considers the Servant who will soon be his. He had spent some time researching Alexander, so as to be fully aware of his personality in life, as well as the nature of his Noble Phantasm, so that he would be able to use him most effectively. What he learned was somewhat impressive, but Kayneth knew that by the time this war was over, his own accomplishments will have dwarfed even the greatest empires of history.

"Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill," he said. As he did so, he held his arm out before him, above the circle. His eyes were closed, his voice perfectly controlled as the words came out. "As each is filled, let it be destroyed." The room began to hum with magical energy. "Let silver and steel be the essence. Upon it rests the cornerstone and the Archduke of Contracts. Become the wall that repels the gale." Kayneth felt a breeze whipping his face, smirked, and continued. "The four gates close tightly. Burst forth from the Crown, and follow the winding road to the Kingdom!" A light so bright penetrated his eyes, forcing them open. He saw the circle emitting a radiance like nothing else he had ever seen. Yes, this was his luminescence; the light created by his power and will. "I call to thee! Thy body, formed of my will; thy sword, enforcing my fate! An thou bend to my will, and my justice, heed the grail's call and answer me! I swear before thee; I shall become all that is good in the world, and destroy all that is evil. Seven Heavens, clad in the Three Holy Souls, cast aside your shackles and come forth; O Guardian of the Scales!"

He was blinded by the light, now. Still, the smirk remained.

 

The light died down, and the dust cloud cleared. As Kayneth struggled to adjust his eyes to the dark room, he could barely make out a human form in the circle, cloaked in red.

"Greetings, Iskandar," he said. "I have summoned you to this era to do battle on my behalf, as my Servant; rejoice, for you have a Master more than worthy of your immense power. Whatever your desires for the Grail may be, consider them granted. Come, let us crush those who would stand against us--"

"I do not know this 'Iskandar' of whom you speak, but I ask you: Are you my Master?" said the female Servant.

Kayneth was taken aback, and as his eyes focused, he could see that the Servant before him was certainly not Iskandar, King of Conquerors; nor, for that matter, any other King. He didn't know who she was, and he was in severe distress at this, but he was too mature to allow it to faze him. It was at least apparent to him that she was of the Caster class, and possessed of decent magical ability; perhaps this would be salvageable after all.

"Yes, I am, girl. I command thee answer me; what is thy name?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You summoned me, using my own relic, yet you do not know my name?"

He knew now that the cloth was not, in fact, Iskandar's ancient cloak; the matter of his deception would have to be pursued later. A cruel fate awaited whoever was responsible, but meanwhile: "Servant, I have commanded you!" he shouted.

She turned her head away from him for a moment; he would have chastised her for this as well, had she not said anything. "I see." She again faced him. "I am Yukiko Amagi, of the Caster class. My Noble Phantasms are Yata no Kagami, Yasakani no Magatama,and Kusanagi no Tsurugi _._ " She paused for a moment, then added, "By any chance, Master, were you perhaps expecting another Serv--"

"Quiet, Servant. I need to think, and I can't have your voice annoying me forever."

Yukiko put her finger on her lip, and tilted her head to the side. As Kayneth was lost in thought, his back turned to her, she began walking toward the altar on which the summoning relic was placed. As she neared it, he must have noticed the sound of her footsteps, and looked up.

"Be still, lowly Servant!" he shouted. "You are not to move nor to speak without my express command. Or shall I use the full extent of my powers to torture you; command you to kill yourself in the cruelest of ways? I have been given these three Command Spells, and even a Caster class Servant cannot disobey them. Dirty little rat. I can assure you; after your unsightly presence is removed from my sight, I will summon a proper Servant in your stead."

Through all this, Yukiko retained a calm expression, facing him. After he finished, she took the cloth from on top of the altar.

Seeing this, the veins on Kayneth's face bulged. "By this Command Spell, Servant, I order you to--"

"Warm. It's so warm..." Kayneth was flabbergasted by her apparent disregard for his usage of the Command Spell. He could only look on in indignation.

Yukiko held the cloth to her face, nuzzling it. Sniffing it. "It's been so long since I've seen this... thank you, Lord Archibald. Thank you for bringing me back, so I could walk this Earth again, and smell the scent of my childhood."

Kayneth was silent.

"This is my old blanket, from when I was a baby, you know," Yukiko said. "Don't tell me," she laughed, "You actually thought that this belonged to Alexander the Great? I mean it's a little old, but..." Yukiko was clutching her sides in laughter, apparently unable to speak.

Kayneth took umbrage at this. It was one thing for a mere  _Servant_ to ignore his commands, but to laugh at him? Absolutely unforgivable. He couldn't even dismiss her, in this case; he had to make her pay for her offence with blood. Well, metaphorically speaking; any blood she lost would merely be a drain on his mana, but... oh, wouldn't it be worth it? Just to teach this impetuous  _girl_ a lesson in respect for her betters?

Yes. Yes it would.

First, however, he had to take care of the boy who tricked him.

"SILENCE, SERVANT!"

Yukiko was startled, and stopped laughing. "Sorry, that was just too funny..." she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Now, your first mission," Kayneth said. "I want you to use the clairvoyancy of the Caster class to discover where the naked ape who deceived me is now, that I may exact retribution from him for his crime."

"Ah, yes, of course, Master." Yukiko held her hands in front of her, as if in prayer. "Hear me, Amaterasu!"

Slowly, an image began to flicker before her. It showed a boy, around 19 years old, reclining in a bed with a sports jersey hung up on the wall next to him. His head was buried in a book. He looked up for a moment, and it almost seemed as if he had noticed he was being watched; but he simply sneezed and returned to his tome.

"Aha! There the little rat is," Kayneth said. "I cannot wait to see his face contorted in pain..."

Wait. Kayneth recognized him. That was... ah, yes. Waver Velvet. That child-- no, not a child. A mere  _infant._ He represented the worst of the newest class of students at the Clock Tower; Kayneth had been lobbying the directorship of the institution for years to only allow students with a certain degree of lineage into the school, but every time his requests were denied. They cited "declining population of the old families" as the reason they needed to expand their student body; ensure that the school's lecture halls and dormitories would continue to be filled.

Screw that. If the student body would have to dwindle in number, then so be it. It would be worth the vastly increased overall quality of the place. Kayneth knew that, but sadly it seemed that everyone else was only concerned about money. Tuition wasn't cheap, and there were many nouveau-riche who were anxious to pay their way in, and establish their own families as magical. This sort of behaviour disgusted Kayneth, who had achieved his position by sheer effort and discipline, never mind his illustrious family background. That was no help to those who would not apply themselves, and the idea that these dirty bastards whose paws were stained with ill-gotten gains were sending their stuck-up brats to be given the greatest magical instruction on Earth grated his soul. It was wasted on them.

The Velvet boy's "thesis" was the culmination of this puerile audacity. While Kayneth certainly valued the hard work he had done to become who he was, it was absolute foolishness to suggest that that could ever be enough to make up for lack of good Magic Circuits. Magic Circuits were like the foundation of a palace; one can build all one liked, investing infinite amounts of time and money into the erection of it, but without a sturdy foundation, even the grandest of palaces would crumble at the first mild storm. Hard work and effort were commendable, but utterly useless without lineage.

"You know," a voice interrupted.

Oh, what is it now... Kayneth made a mental note to spend the next few nights researching exactly how to maximize the pain he could inflict on his Servant without forcing her back to the Throne of Heroes.

"I really don't think you should be doing this," Yukiko said. "It's cruel, and honestly a waste of our time. If we're going to win the Grail, we should focus on the Holy Grail War, not some kid."

"'Cruel,' you say?" Kayneth said. "Well, perhaps that only sweetens the pot for me, Servant. Or is that philosophy too difficult to comprehend, for a mind as troglodytic as yours?"

"Yes, actually. I can't ever see myself respecting a Master who would do something like that, to a non-combatant. It's horrible."

At this, Kayneth smiled. "I see. In that case, I shall have you attend to it personally. At least you will have learned something from the experience, if you are not as utterly stupid as you seem."

Fire raged in Yukiko's eyes. "Why do you care so much about him, anyway?"

"What do you mean, 'why?'" Kayneth said. "It is my obligation as a senior member of the Mages' Association, and as Lord El-Melloi, as well as the 9th Head of the Archibald family of Magi. Impudent children like him must be punished, to atone for their insult against the honor of magic." He chuckled. "Don't mistake me, girl; I do this only out of a sense of duty. If it were only myself he had acted against, I would be generous enough to ignore the damage. Do you swat every fly you see? Of course not; it would simply be a bother. The same applies here."

"...It's not as if anyone's forcing you to do this, right?" Yukiko said. "I mean, you and I are probably the only ones who know about this whole relic-swapping thing in the first place. Your honour will remain intact if you choose to, as you say, ignore him."

"Stupid girl. I would know; and I would never be able to face myself in the mirror again. Surely someone like you would know nothing of it, but we Magi have certain higher ideals that we place above ourselves. We ourselves are answerable to them, and we hold ourselves accountable for any deviation. Hence, the sheer defiance exhibited by that boy against them can only point to a lack of proper breeding, both genetically and in his education. No Magus properly raised could act in such a disgraceful manner. Such a person is best eliminated from our ranks before he corrupts others. Really," Kayneth shook his head, "You are simply too low-born to understand the ways of the upper class..."

"I am not low-born," Yukiko said. "I am the 50th heir to the ancient Amagi clan of Eastern Magi; which, by my calculations, ranks my lineage far above yours. So please cease your ramblings about 'ideals' and 'honour;' I was happy to keep my mouth shut earlier, but it's now apparent to me that you are nothing but a spoilt child, led on by dreams of anything more important than yourself."

Kayneth's eyes bulged.

Yukiko continued. "My family has been guarding the Japanese archipelago from attack since the days of my most ancient ancestor, the Emperor Jinmu. We maintained an inn, for appearances' sake; but our true duty was always to our land and its people.

"And you know what? I was happy about that. I would have been happy to take on the burden from my mother; actually, I was looking forward to it. Or maybe I was just retroactively justifying my resignation to Fate. There was nothing I could do about it, anyway; so might as well enjoy it, right?" Yukiko laughed mirthlessly. "I never thought of myself at all, or what I wanted. I'm not even sure I was really aware of myself as a separate person; was "I" anything more than the daughter of Norikata, who had married into the clan before disappearing, and Kuroko Amagi? The 50th heir to the illustrious clan of Amagi? I don't think I considered myself defined by anything but that.

"But then, one day, that all changed. I made friends at school, and we had adventures together. I then realized that I despised the name 'Amagi;' I had finally learned that it was possible to not be defined by your family. That I could be my own person. It was as if I had been drowning all my life until that point, and then I was brought to the surface to breathe for the first time. It was exhilarating. I wanted to completely cut ties with my family, and the backwater town I had been living in, and pursue the new me. Find myself, and decide who I wanted to be. I relished the thought of telling my parents that I was leaving, and seeing their faces as I just walked out from them and everything they had prepared for my succession. Not as if they ever cared about me as a person, either. They only saw me as an opportunity to expand their magical knowledge, and strengthen the Amagi Magic Circuits. They probably saw themselves the same way, too, now that I think about it.

"I was ready to do all this, when I was stopped. My friends convinced me that I could become a Magus, without sacrificing who I was. That I could do it because I wanted to, not because I was forced or pressured or born into it. And when I heard that, it just made so much sense. Of course I could. I could pursue the path of self-determination, and what better way to do so, than with the power and prestige I would have as head of the Amagi clan?

"So I made the decision: I would succeed my mother as matriarch, because that is what I wanted. What I decided, for myself. I then used my position to ensure the prosperity of my country, delighting in the feeling of strength whenever it occurred to me that this whole country rested on my shoulders; and that I was strong enough to carry it all with ease. There is truly no better feeling..."

"I did not summon you to listen to your life story, Servant!" Kayneth shouted. "I have decided the pain of enduring your existence is not worth any Grail; I shall now dismiss you. By my second Command Seal, I order you to--"

"Oh, shut up," Yukiko said. "I'm getting sick of this act of yours. You may be a shit Magus, but unlike you, I have enough magical ability to know who my Master is. Your background is just like me. Well, except that it's several orders of magnitude smaller. Puny. I don't know why I even bothered, but I was trying to help you see the error of your ways; I thought maybe, maybe he can find happiness like I once did. I know now, though, that you're not worth the effort. So go on. Burn up to ashes, as you continue to sacrifice your life to some phantasmal thing like 'the Honour of Magic.' As far as I'm concerned, our contract is void." Yukiko turned away from Kayneth, and began walking toward the door of his workshop. "By the way," she called out behind her, "don't think you can get rid of me just by expending your Command Seals. My Yata-no-Kagami provides me with more than enough mana to keep me materialized for, oh, another century or so."

This was too much for Kayneth to bear. This girl must be punished, for her flippant denials of everything that was sacred. He checked his pocket.

Excellent, it is here, as always. Not as if he would ever let himself be caught with his pants down. She was about to open the door, but it would be too late.

"Scalp!"

The mercury tendrils shot themselves at Yukiko's departing figure, covering her, swallowing her in a giant blob.

He had used his position to his advantage, catching her by surprise, and finally getting rid of her. He would at last no longer need to endure her insufferable voice, and could now put his mind to more important matters... like locating Waver Velvet. He had already decided what he would do to him; bind his hands and feet with iron chains to a steel bedframe, and let electric current flow through the bed and chains, into Velvet's body. He would not be overly cruel, though. He would make sure to continually heal the boy, so that no matter how much voltage entered his body, no matter how he cried out for sweet death, he would live.

Kayneth smiled at the thought, and began to laugh. Indeed, there was no Magus on Earth who could stand against him; even this girl of a lineage of 50 generations was as nothing before him. He began to consider fighting in the Grail War without a Servant; if this was what his power was like, perhaps not even the greatest of Servants could stand in his way.

 

_slosh_

 

He pricked his ears. Seemed to have been a noise from the Volumen Hydrargyrum. Probably just digesting.

 

_slosh_

 

That thing was really quite noisy, wasn't it? Kayneth had never had it swallow a human before, so he wasn't sure what was typical. He began to pack his things, making his way out of the room by the other exit; as the main one was obstructed by the man-eating mercury, and the Servant's partially digested corpse inside of it. Did Servants have corpses? Or did they simply dissipate upon the return of their spirit to the Throne of Heroes? Now that he thought about it, that was odd...

Lost in such thought, he opened the door, and was about to exit the workshop, when he felt great heat on his back. He smelled burning linen.

His suit was on fire.

He turned around, and saw his Servant. Her body was wreathed in flames, and her mouth burned as she spoke. Above her head was something like a halo, or perhaps a disk, radiating blinding light.

"KAYNETH ARCHIBALD. THOU HAST BEEN DEEMED A THREAT TO THE SACRED LAND OF THE RISING SUN. I SHALL NOW PUNISH THEE, AS THE GODDESS OF THIS PLACE."

Kayneth trembled, for the first time in his life since the childhood beatings he used to receive when he failed his magical practicals. He shuddered inwardly at the memory, but summoned his pride to confront his Servant.

"Silly girl. Quit this charade, or I shall--"

"I DID NOT BID THEE SPEAK. I AM NOT THY SERVANT; I AM THE PROGENITOR OF THE IMPERIAL DYNASTY OF THE CHRYSANTHEMUM THRONE, AMATERASU-NO-OMIKAMI. NOW, ACCEPT THY PUNISHMENT AS A MAN WOULD. IF THOU'RT EVEN WORTHY OF THE NAME 'MAN.'"

Kayneth was about to say something, but his Servant -- or the Goddess? He didn't know anymore -- floated toward him. Slowly, inexorably, she inched closer and closer. He forgot that there was a door open behind him. He could only retreat backwards in abject terror. He tripped on his suitcase.

As he lay on he ground, defenseless, he held out his right arm in front of his face. He could use it. The forbidden spell of the Archibalds. It would drain his body of almost all is mana, likely killing him, but it would be a better fate than whatever awaited him from that divine fire.

As he was about to activate it, his mind was frozen solid by the imperious, ethereal voice.

 

"KAYNETH ARCHIBALD, I EXPEL NOW THY VAST DEFILEMENT."

 

Those were the last words Kayneth heard, accompanied by a flash of light like an atomic bomb, and the fires of a thousand suns. In the nanoseconds that his life still held out, he asked himself one final question, after a life of searching and questioning.

 

_What... was it all for?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Kayneth simply doesn't get enough love. 
> 
> If any of you have read my previous works, you'd probably know to expect weirdness... I've been reading Tsukihime recently. Now *that* is weird. Love it, though. Praise the Nasu.
> 
> Some notes on the backstory here:
> 
> 1\. Yukiko's family: They are indeed Magi, protecting the country from the shadows against threats both internal and external. This was likely why Izanami & co. came to Inaba in the first place; its ley lines flowed with even more mana than those of Fuyuki. They were, however concealed by the Amagis' barrier to all but the most Divine, hence why the architects of the Heaven's Feel ritual had no knowledge of them.
> 
> 2\. The relic-switching: Waver, after intercepting the delivery of Iskandar's relic from Kayneth, was making preparations to summon Iskandar in Inaba; he had heard from a friend of his -- a Japanese exchange student -- about the Inaba ley lines, and was determined to use them to get a leg up on the other Masters. While there, he bought a small blanket at a shop that resembled Iskandar's relic. He then singed and wrinkled it, to make it seem ancient, packaged it similarly to the relic, and shipped it off to Kayneth, who was blissfully unaware of the deception. The sports jersey hanging in his bedroom was owned by the deceased son of the American family whose home he was 'borrowing.' He used magic to deceive them into thinking that he was their dead son. They're fairly happy with the arrangement, and though pangs of guilt assail his heart, he comforts himself with the notion that if they're happy, and he's happy, that's all that matters. The book is a biography of Alexander the Great, as Waver wants to know as much about his Servant as possible before he summons him.
> 
> 3\. Yukiko's Transformation: Yukiko is a Pseudo-Servant, not unlike Rin Tohsaka, who was possessed by the goddess Ishtar. The essential difference in Yukiko's case, however, is that Amaterasu-no-Omikami, as the Embodiment of the National Will of Japan (a sort of localized subsidiary of Alaya; strictly speaking, She represents the *people* of the land, rather than the land itself; but in most cases, as here, that is an insignificant distinction), only appears when the Japanese Nation itself is, in Her view, threatened. After Yukiko called for her aid for the clairvoyance, She watched Kayneth, and after he attacked his own Servant, She judged him a danger. The reason -- insanity, the sheer arrogance to attack his own Servant and think himself capable of winning the Holy Grail War on his own, proved him a more dangerous lunatic than any member of the Berserker class. Hence, Amaterasu took over Yukiko's body. She pushed Yukiko's consciousness aside, and bestowed the Divine Punishment he deserved.
> 
> 4\. Chronology: The Fourth Holy Grail War took place in 1994, while Yukiko Amagi was born December 8, 1994. The apparent discrepancy here can be explained simply: The blanket that Waver purchased, and switched with Iskandar's relic, was the blanket that would have been bought by the Amagi's nursemaid for little Yukiko. Indeed, it *was* bought by the Amagi's nursemaid in an alternate timeline; it functioned as a proper relic, as a temporal aspect of it existed as Yukiko's baby blanket. Hence, the summoning ritual took effect as it would with any other Servant.


	2. The Holder of the Lance

Yukiko looked about herself. After she returned to consciousness, she realised that the Goddess had taken over again. This drove her back to the same feelings she always had when this happened: Despair, regret, and frustrated anger. It was the nature of the persona soul-binding ritual that the persona-user would be tied to their persona through life and death -- and apparently, even to the Throne of Heroes. She supposed that at the time, there had been no choice in the matter. Too many of her loved ones were in danger of being spirited away -- no, killed -- by that evil deity, Izanami. Yukiko had never had any patience for gods meddling in human afairs, only to satisfy their own curiosity and sate their immortal boredom. She was glad, at least, that those days of deceptive gods manipulating human events were far behind her.

She walked over to the charred corpse of her former Master, bent down, and silently kissed his forehead. She then used her fingers to close his eyes, the empty orbs in their sockets still bulging out in surprise. He was -- perhaps unfortunately? -- not the worst master she had ever had, though he was one of the bad ones. Still, there was something in him that she could relate to. What happened was truly a pity; she liked to think that if he had lived, the two of them could somehow have forged a friendship.

Well, maybe 'friendship' was stretching it a bit. 'Cordiality,' that seemed a more appropriate word.

She sat on the ground, and allowed herself several minutes to weep over the lifeless form before her. She could not afford to take any more time than that. As a member of the Caster class, she knew things that others did not. One of those things was that she was the final Servant to be summoned. This meant only one thing.

The Holy Grail War had already begun.

* * *

 

There was blood, so much blood. It was everywhere, all over the carpets, the couch, and his clothes. Staining everything with its wine-red hue. It was just...

Beautiful.

Uryuu Ryuunosuke stood up, satisfied with the magic circle he had drawn. He wasn't entirely sure whether he had properly followed the instructions in the old magic book he found in his family's attic, but he hoped that whatever he lacked in precision, was made up for by his enthusiasm. He didn't know what the hell would come out of this, but he knew that whatever it was, it would be--

"Cooooooool!!!" he shouted. "Hey," he said, kicking the body lying on the ground next to him. The bound boy, his mouth gagged, could only moan in reply. This annoyed Ryuunosuke; did this kid really not understand how amazing this was? A real life bona fide DEMON! Not every day you got to see _that_. But if there was one thing Ryuunosuke knew about demons, it was that they were just like the rest of us. They got hungry, and needed a snack occasionally. Fortunately, he had prepared for that in advance.

"Listen, kid," he said to the quivering form below him. The child was apparently too frightened to reply. Ryuunosuke couldn't wait to see the kid's face when the demon finally showed up; it'd be priceless, he knew it. "Aren't you excited? A demon's gonna show up, and you'll get to meet him!" He gestured to the surrounding corpses of the child's family. A man in a suit; probably a company man. A woman, probably attractive by most people's standards, but a little old for Ryuunosuke. He generally preferred women in their lower 20s at the most; any older, and they didn't have the same vivacity when you slit their throats. Especially not the married ones. Those seemed so bored that they almost welcomed their demise with pleasure, which annoyed him. A lot of things annoyed Ryuunosuke. This kid was one, right now. "Look, your parents won't get the chance, but you will! You'll meet him, he'll meet you, and he'll eat you!" Ryuunosuke bent down and patted the kid's flat stomach. "What have they been feeding you? God, you're practically a skeleton. I hope the demon's ok with just you, and doesn't decide to eat your parents too. That'd..." He paused. "Well, actually, it'd be pretty convenient. Saves me a ton of work on the cleanup of the bodies. All right, yeah!" He stood up and pumped his fist into the air. "LET'S GOOOOO!"

A crackling. "The hell was that," Ryuunosuke said, searching for the source of the noise. "Well, whatever." He drew a knife from its sheath on his belt. It dripped red blood as he took it out. He bent down and pulled the gag out of the boy's mouth. He then held the knife, point down, directly over the boy's face. "Thirsty?" He laughed.

The first droplets of blood fell onto the boy's face. Suddenly, a light shone behind Ryuunosuke. He turned around, to see his magic circle illuminated in an otherworldly glow. He fell onto his knees before it, and rejoiced. "I KNEW ITTTTT! Don't go anywhere, kid. The main event is just beginning." He continued to gaze at the light in wonder, as lightning began flashing above the circle, and the light soon consumed the whole room.

After the light dissipated, Ryuunosuke rubbed his eyes. He saw there was a form standing in the center of the circle, and immediately ran to it. "Hey, how are you?"

The form appeared to ignore him. "I am the Servant Lancer. I ask you, are you my Master?"

"Umm," Ryuunosuke put his hand behind his head. "I don't really know what you're talking about, but I did summon you, so... I guess? Either way, don't worry," he gestured to the bound child. "I made sure there would be some food ready for you. You hungry?"

The demon walked toward the boy. It bent down, and Ryuunosuke was almost salivating with anticipation of what would come next. The biting of teeth through flesh, the slurping of viscera; the sounds filled his mind with memories of warmth. He could almost hear it now. He closed his eyes to hear the sounds as distinctly as possible, but his mind was invaded by the sound of unraveling ropes.

He opened his eyes, and saw the demon untying the child. Unbelievable! He ran over to the demon, and began to speak. "Hey, man, what are you--"

He was interrupted by the demon putting a finger to his lips, urging silence. Ryuunosuke didn't understand what was going on, but he decided that if this guy was a demon, he probably knew what he was doing. He decided to watch for a bit.

The demon untied all the ropes holding the boy. The boy was trembling, but the demon took him into his arms. Embraced him, and even smiled. "It's all right, child," the demon said. "You needn't worry anymore. Your heart is fragile, like glass, but it will be spared further suffering."

The child's eyes widened, and he began to cry. Big, thick tears rolled down his cheeks, and his sobs filled the room. The demon patted his back. "Shh, shh... It will all be ok." The demon's hand then began to move up the boy's back. It reached the shoulder blades, but didn't stop there. Soon enough it was on the back of the boy's neck. Still embracing the child with his other hand, still cooing words of comfort, the demon squeezed the neck with incredible force. The boy stopped crying, and started screaming. The demon kept squeezing, tighter and tighter. The boy started to flail, like the death throes of a slaughtered cow. Still the demon kept him in a tight embrace, whispering how he would never let him go and suffer again. Soon the screaming stopped, then the flailing, and finally the child lay like a limp ragdoll in the demon's arms.

The demon then kissed the child's cold forehead, and stood up. He faced Ryuunosuke. Grey hair -- with a lavender tint -- covered his head, and a beautiful white smile of maternal warmth adorned his face. His eyes were red like the sunset, possessed of both wisdom and sorrow in vast measure. They seemed to stare directly into one's heart, penetrating all of one's emotional barriers along the way. It was as if anyone the demon looked at felt as if they were the only one in the world, like nothing mattered but the love shared between them and the demon. It was a captivating face, and it drew Ryuunosuke in. He was, for once, too awestruck to speak. He could only sit, mouth agape.

"He was in pain," the demon said, in the same soft voice he used when he spoke to the child. "I couldn't bear it. The heart of the Lilin is capable of soaring the highest mountains of culture and artistic expression, but they pay for that pleasure with suffering in equal amounts. I felt his pain deeply inside myself, and I knew I couldn't let that go on. It would eventually peak, and stale, deteriorating into a slow burn of dull pain until one day he simply died. That would be a terrible waste. I wished to preserve his life as it was meant to be remembered, as the nadir of human experience crystallized into a single moment."

"S-sir...?"

"If only he didn't have to die. If only I could have preserved him forever, a living display of the deepest fear one of your race could experience, at such a tender age. Yet here he lies, his face covered in tears and snot, a monument that will soon fade away to nothingness." Throughout the demon's speech, his smile never left his face. He walked toward Ryuunosuke, and held out his hand. Ryuunosuke took it, finding himself trembling a little. This was not out of fear, though. It was admiration. He took the demon's hand with reverence. His hand felt safe and protected inside the demon's. The demon shook Ryuunosuke's hand, and spoke. "I swear before you: Thine offering shall form my flesh and blood. Thy will shall create my sword, and I shall be thy shield. Now, what is your name, friend?"

"Ur-Uryuu Ryuunosuke, sir. I do odd jobs for a living. My hobby is serial killing; especially kids and young women." He gestured to the corpse of the boy on the ground.

The demon closed his eyes. "Uryuu Ryuunosuke," he said, as if tasting every sound in the name. "My Master. I look forward to accompanying you on your journey, and feeling the soft beat of your heart synchronizing with my own, as we search together for the Artifact of Kings; the Holy Grail."

"The Holy Grail?"

"Yes, Ryuunosuke, the Holy Grail. Once we attain it, we shall be at liberty to enjoy the sweet tragedies suffered by all men forever. We shall feel our hearts pulled down to the earth by vicarious torment, and the catharsis as we rise back up. We will be able to admire the beauty found in the souls of all, and we will be able to love every heart we meet. The inner nature of humans is most fascinating, is it not? Labyrinthine hearts, concealing the darkest of desires, but so fragile, so easy to break. Come, Ryuunosuke. Let us begin our quest of love."

Ryuunosuke was taken aback a bit, not having expected the demon he summoned to be quite like this. Either way, though, the guy _was_ definitely the real deal, if he could squish that kid's neck like a bug. That was pretty freakin' cool. "Sure, but, one thing I need to know," he said.

"Hmm?" The same smile stared at him, the same deep red eyes boring into the depths of Ryuunosuke's soul.

Ryuunosuke swallowed, then continued. "Sir, you're amazing. You're brilliant; you're the coolest thing I've ever seen. I want you to teach me everything you know about dragging people down and preserving them and stuff, but if we're going to do this, I have to have something to call you. What's your name?"

The demon's smile remained unchanged. He stretched out his arms, and coiled them around Ryuunosuke's back. He hugged him, and Ryuunosuke knew the demon would never hurt him. The demon put his face close, and whispered in Ryuunosuke's ear. "My name is Nagisa Kaworu. I was born to meet you, Ryuunosuke."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Hadn't been planning to continue this, but why not, really. This is now a multi-verse crossover, and I've always wanted to write an Eva/Fate crossover anyway. This Kaworu is probably somewhat more like Sadamoto's manga Kaworu than anything, now I think about it. Good manga, that was.
> 
>  
> 
> Much like last chapter, this one was mostly written while listening to Caramelldansen on loop. I think it puts me in a sort of meditative trance at this point. Hmm.
> 
> Next update will almost certainly focus on the summoning of another one of the Servants, though exactly which one has not yet been decided. See ya!


	3. The Consumer of Love

"Get up, Kariya," said a voice.

Kariya Matou moaned. He had just finished his training -- 'torture' would be a better description -- in the Crest Worm pit in his family's basement, and was now lying semi-conscious on the floor outside the pit. He'd been lying like this for days, reality nothing more than a fever dream to him. No food or water had passed his lips, and he began to worry if Zouken had simply forgot about him. Would all the suffering he had endured till now be meaningless? Go through that simply to die of starvation. God, he needed to eat.

A shooting pain in his stomach. "Hahaha," the voice laughed. Did he recognize it? It... it seemed like Zouken's. Yes, it was. So the bastard _had_ remembered him. Fine, so be it, as long as his torment was over. He'd go through anything just to save Sakura, even consort with his decrepit vampire of a father. He opened his eyes, and saw his father's walking stick buried in his stomach, not drawing blood externally. He felt, though, like there was massive internal bleeding. One or two of his organs were probably ruptured. He moaned again.

"Oh?" Zouken said. "Don't worry, Kariya. The Crest Worms inside you will ensure your regenerative ability is strong enough to withstand a light injury like this." As if to prove his point, he drove the staff in further, twisting it as he did so. This time it punctured the skin, and drew thick red blood. Kariya was finally jolted to reality, and screamed.

"Ahh, music to my ears." Zouken removed the staff, and immediately Crest Worms appeared and began filling the hole of the wound, like a scab forming. Within seconds, the wound was covered by a bandage of worms, and this only brought more pain. Kariya's screaming grew louder, as the worms knit the wound together. He writhed.

When the regeneration was complete, he was in the fetal position, panting and sweating.

"See? I told you," Zouken said with a smile. "You should survive this War, at least long enough to win the Grail. If you lose, you have only yourself to blame for the violation of Sakura's chastity. The tools you've been given are quite sufficient to the task."

Zouken drew something from a gym bag, and threw it at Kariya's feet. The cellar was dark, but... what? What was this? Could it be--

"An arm. Now, don't eat it. You must be hungry, but if you want some prey you'll have to catch your own. Pick it up, and come with me. I have a job for you."

* * *

 

Kariya stood before a summoning circle. Zouken had prepared this room, adjacent to the Crest Worm pit, for the invocation of his Servant. Kariya held the severed arm in his hand. He could see it better in the light given off by the candles spread around the room. The arm was roughly cut, not by a saw. It was more _animal_. As if to confirm this, he could see teeth marks on various places. It reeked of alcohol; it must have been preserved. This arm must be months old at the least... what sort of Servant would have something like this as a summoning relic?

"Zouken," Kariya said. "Tell me the identity of my Servant."

"No need, Kariya, no need. It will be quite obvious when he is summoned; that is, his Class and Noble Phantasm will be known to you. His name is unimportant. He is just a tool for use in the Holy Grail War, not unlike yourself." Zouken laughed. "Now, I will have you make a slight modification to the ordinary summoning chant. I trust you know the standard form?"

Kariya nodded.

"Excellent. I wish you to add the following lines..." Zouken ran up to Kariya with a speed uncanny for his age. He whispered in Kariya's ear. Kariya listened, with eyes dead save for a weak light of determination. Zouken finished whispering, and gave Kariya a quick whack in the back with his staff before slowly walking back to his previous position.

Kariya winced at the blow, and his mind burned with rage. He briefly fantasized about ordering his Servant to attack Zouken immediately after summoning him, but he reminded himself that Zouken's knowledge of Magecraft would mean he would be far too powerful to defeat like that. Besides, Zouken probably had defensive runes placed around the room to ensure his safety -- and Kariya's humiliation -- in exactly such a situation. What a fucking worm.

He walked to the summoning circle. The mercury and blood had already been poured. The patterns drawn on the circle reminded Kariya of his struggles through life; the spirals and whorls, spinning down into the center of the circle, made him think of himself. Just spiraling down -- or up? -- to death, pain all the way, but perhaps with the chance of saving Sakura on the way. Huh. He hadn't noticed before, but the six points of the star inscribed within the circle might stand for the six Servants that fall during the War. The last surviving Master and his Servant, then, must stand in the center; surrounded on all sides by the corpses of their foes. What a strange idea. Standing in the middle of a bloody battleground, severed limbs strewn around you; torsos impaled by blades, their blood flow already ceased. No life anywhere. In such an environment, even the sole survivor in the center must feel nothing but death. Rather than the supreme exultation of life winning against all odds, he must look around at his surroundings and want nothing more than to join his fellows in eternal slumber. That sort of longing would be born in anyone exposed to death for even a moment; it must be magnified a thousandfold in the winner of the Holy Grail War.

So it seems, that even after victory, there is no pleasure. The pain, the pain never ends.

He sighed, and took a deep breath. He held out his arm, holding the severed arm within it, over the circle. His voice was raised to a clear tone, as he focused on his goal above all else.

"Fill, fill, fill, fill. As each is filled, let it be destroyed." The room began to glow in the light of the circle.

"Let silver and steel be the essence, and let the rotting flesh found it in perpetual chaos." Kariya felt the worms inside him wriggle, trying to break forth from his skin, but only undulating within him.

"Let the All-Devourer be the Ancestor." The room buzzed with audible power, a chaotic strength threatening to consume the world in its maw.

"Raise a wall of life against the death that shall assault it, and close the four paths of Earth, Air, Sea, and the Realm of Divinity." There were roars in the room, rushes of wind, the bubbling of a stream, and a still small voice.

"Enter the Mouth, and follow the winding road to the Rot." A fetid stench attacked his nostrils. It was all Kariya could do to resist vomiting.

"I call to thee! Thy body, formed of my Will; thy knife, enforcing my dominion! An thou bend to my will, and my hunger, heed the Grail's call and answer me! I swear before thee; I shall become all that preys in the world, and destroy all that is weak. O Seventh Heaven, swirling in the Endless Spiral, I bid thee awaken and kill; O Wrecker of the Scales!"

Blinding light filled the room, and the last thing Kariya saw before he could see no longer was Zouken's smile. After the light dissipated, and Kariya's eyes adjusted to the darkness, there was a human form in the center of the circle. It appeared female -- or was it male? -- with blond hair, a red jacket, a purple shirt, and a long black skirt. The form was crouching down, so Kariya couldn't see its face through its hair. It panted, like a lion that had just finished hunting an elephant.

"I'm surprised, Kariya," Zouken said, his voice cutting through the silence. "Not only did you survive the ritual, but you managed to summon the desired Servant without any noticeable deformities. I suppose even the weakest of my effluences is worth keeping around for my entertainment. I can see the pain coursing through your body. Are the worms frenzying within you, wanting nothing more than to eat their way out of you and destroy you? Hmm?"

Kariya did not respond.

His Servant's panting intensified, and he finally erected himself somewhat. His hair no longer covering his face, Kariya could see his eyes. Gold, with a beastly aura within them. The Servant was definitely male, that much was apparent now. In his hand he held a knife, its hilt gold with a band of red. The blade gleamed, reflecting every ounce of light in the dark room.

The Servant began to sway, body shifting its weight from right, to left, and back again. Kariya was unsure of his intent, but he steeled himself in preparation.

After swaying for about 30 seconds, the Servant jumped backwards, and planted its feet on the ceiling in the corner of the small room. He then pushed off with his boot-clad feet, and flew at Kariya like an eagle plucking a fish out of water. Kariya was unafraid of his Servant. If he turned out to be the sort that rebels against his Master, then his chances at winning the Holy Grail War were already less than zero. The Command Spells on his hand burned, but he refused to use them. If he died now, at least he would finally have a rest from his work.

The Servant raised his knife mid-air, and Kariya instinctively dropped the relic in his hand. The Servant caught the arm as it fell within its mouth, and bounded back to the center of the summoning circle. He began to chew, and the sound of crunching bone reached Kariya's ears. It was a sickening sound. The Servant appeared to be consuming the arm, holding it in one hand and ripping off large chunks with its teeth. Kariya looked at the scene in astonishment, but could say nothing.

After several minutes, the Servant appeared to have finished eating. Even the bones were no more; it was as if he had swallowed the arm whole. He turned to face Kariya, and grinned widely. His face and clothing were covered in blood and dead tissue, and his white teeth were stained red. He stuck out his thick, powerful tongue, and licked all the blood from his face. He then lapped up whatever was not permanently absorbed into his clothing, before pointing his head skyward and howling at an invisible moon.

"See, Kariya?" Zouken said. "That's what a true hunter looks like; he sees his prey, and immediately attacks. You've been a disappointment to me for years. I named you 'Kariya,' the Hunter. Yet you've been nothing but prey for the strong, like myself. I suppose I can't complain too much, since I've found that watching you suffer has made life worth living... Ahh." Zouken sighs with pleasure, as if waxing nostalgic. "Such a Servant as this one is far more than you deserve, but I predict that his power will be sufficient to make up for your own shortcomings."

"Quiet, old man," Kariya said. "You told me you'd show me his Noble Phantasm. What is it?"

"Worry not. You will find out momentarily."

Zouken struck the ground in front of him with his staff, and the wall behind him glowed. It seemed to have a transitory quality; as if it were a wall, but also not a wall. Kariya couldn't look directly at it; it created a powerful headache that couldn't be suppressed. It felt like his brain would explode if he kept looking at it, so he turned away. He next lifted his eyes to see a young boy, apparently dazed. The boy was no more than eight years of age, and Kariya shuddered with rage at Zouken. There was no way this could end well, and he almost ordered Berserker to attack the old man. If not for the fear of certain death, he would have.

"Now, Kariya, order your Servant to activate his Noble Phantasm. You need not expend a Command Seal; he can draw the mana from you directly."

Kariya, not having a choice in the matter, mentally directed Berserker to activate his Noble Phantasm, whatever it was. His Servant immediately stood erect, just as before. He opened his mouth and his tongue whipped about in front of his face. Then, he bit down on his tongue, and blood began to drip all over the floor. He kept on swinging the tongue around, and soon the walls were flecked with red dots. He put the tongue back in his mouth, as if tasting the blood. Mouth closed, he dashed towards the boy, his jacket glowing a deep vermillion. When he reached the boy, he extended his tongue once more, and licked the boy. He covered his entire body in a bubbling red mixture of blood and saliva, occasionally biting or sucking on isolated parts.

The Servant then jumped back, and Kariya saw the boy's body shimmering in the light reflected off his coating of red saliva. Within seconds, the boy's formerly dazed manner began to change. He started moaning. His eyes, formerly irisless black holes, turned red and bulged. He began frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog, and cried out in pain.

"Mommy, Mommy! AAAAAAAAAA!"

He collapsed to the floor, writhing like a slaughtered ox. Bumps appeared all over his body, like chickenpox. They grew and expanded, some exploding like little bombs of blood. Others grew, then subsided. Every time a bump exploded, the child yelped in pain. Kariya's heart was torn at the sight.  
After what seemed like an eternity, the room sprayed with the child's blood, and huge wounds like craters on the child's back, he finally was still. It seemed to Kariya that he might be dead, but Zouken spoke. "Not yet, Kariya. The fun is not over yet."

The child then got up, its dark hair rendered blond. It looked at Kariya with deep red eyes, but they were no longer bulging; they were set normally in the ocular cavity. It bared its teeth, showing elongated canines. No longer possessed of human nails, the child had beastlike claws. It panted like a dog in heat.

It went on all fours, and scratched its ear with its leg. "Ah, a dog this time? Well, I shouldn't be surprised," Zouken said. "Not a pure manifestation, but it _does_ seem primary."

The child barked, and broke into a run towards Kariya, tongue lolling out between sharp canines. It jumped at Kariya, its open mouth ready to accept his skull.

 

_slash_

 

Berserker had intercepted the child, cutting its head clean off. Kariya was struck by the headless corpse, severed neck bathing him in blood. He still stood, stoic, accepting the blow. Internally, he cursed Zouken and the world. The forms taken by evil were truly endless, weren't they? Just when you think that you've seen the worst this world had to offer, you are presented with something even more foul. It made him feel, for a second, like simply erasing this whole vile existence. Starting over was unnecessary; there was no guarantee at all that whatever he replaced this world with would be any better. Indeed, it could be far, far worse. The only sure improvement was nothingness; death was the only true means of salvation. But, not yet. Not until Sakura was saved, could he pursue his own selfish wishes for relief.

Zouken looked on at the spectacle approvingly, as Berserker consumed the child's corpse. When Berserker was done, Zouken went to the door leading upstairs, above the cellar.

"I leave the rest to you, Kariya. Don't disappoint me, or rather, don't let Sakura down. And do give me something to warm my old heart, some fresh screams of agony. I expect nothing less of you, Son." He cackled as he ascended the stairs.

Zouken's footsteps grew faint.

Kariya looked at his Servant. He looked at his bestial attitude, as Berserker slept on his side after eating the boy. Not even dematerializing; the Servant clearly had no sense of propriety. He had no idea heroes such as this existed, who cannibalized _children_. Perhaps the Throne of Heroes is just as corrupt a place as this world is, and just as deserving of destruction. Sadly, Kariya didn't think that anything he could do could harm a Conceptual Location like the Throne of Heroes; what was its existence tied to, anyway? The Grail? Or did it exist independently of that? Kariya didn't know, though the old bastard probably did.

Kariya made a vow to himself.

"I shall use my Servant only for good, for the rescue of Sakura. If Sakura's smiling face can be restored, it will atone for everything I have to do to win this Holy Grail War. I will become all that is good in this world, and die. When I die, I will bring down to the depths of hell all that is evil, and I shall ensure that my sacrifice is the last one that needs be made. I will personally bind the evil in shackles and throw it into the hellfires, and watch it burn. Then the smoke shall rise from the underground furnace, and when it reaches the surface, Sakura will smell it and think of me. Thus, I shall live on forever in her heart, which is the only place in this rotten world I want to be."

Kariya noticed something on the ground, next to the summoning circle. It was faint, so he didn't see it before, but it was definitely there. Inscribed in chalk. He moved closer.

He bent down to read it. It was only two words, probably a name.

 

"Lio Shirazumi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! It's been only a short time since the last update, but for whatever reason I've been seized by a sudden burst of creativity these past couple days. It might be the relaxed atmosphere of the summer, combined with the fact that I've started exercising pretty heavily too. IIRC Stephen King talks about the beneficial effects of regular exercise for one's writing ability. So that's cool.
> 
> Mostly listened to Swinging Popsicle on Spotify, which is a Jpop group I learned of from their single, 'Satetsu no Tou' (Tower of Sand), which was an image song for Akiha Tohno in Tsukihime. Really good, creative Jpop, as well as easy listening. I recommend the album Transit, and the aforementioned single, 'Satetsu no Tou.'
> 
> Speaking of Tsukihime, I've just reached the True Ending for the Ciel route! Yay! I won't spoil it, but rest assured it's an excellent VN, well worth a read for any fan of Nasu's work.
> 
> Anyway, here're the actual chapter notes (being that they were barely present last time, I'll talk about stuff relevant to last chapter as well):
> 
> 1\. Kaworu Nagisa, of Neon Genesis Evangelion, has been summoned as the Servant Lancer to the 4th Holy Grail War by Ryuunosuke Uryuu. His Noble Phantasm is currently unknown.
> 
> 2\. Kariya's Servant is Lio Shirazumi, who featured in the 7th movie in the Kara no Kyoukai series: Murder Investigation, Part B. He is here summoned as a Berserker Class Servant, in his insane state after having his Origin awakened by the magus Souren Araya. If he were to be summoned in his previous state, before his Origin was fully manifest, he would have been summoned as an Assassin. Zouken arranged, however, that Lio would be summoned as a Berserker, thus ensuring peak combat ability.
> 
> 3\. Lio's Noble Phantasm is "Bloodchip." Named after the strips of paper, spotted with a drop of Lio's own blood and laced with marijuana, it causes any living thing (human, animal, or otherwise) that is doused in Lio's blood and saliva to awaken a distorted form of its Origin. Being that Lio's Origin is itself a chaotic mass of beasts, swirling about inside of him with no-one knowing exactly which beast will break free of the vortex and manifest, it is somewhat random in its effects. Generally, the target's origin will be redirected such that it is mapped to the animal of prey most closely resembling it. The boy killed by Lio was kidnapped by Zouken, and drugged to keep him docile until he was necessary to demonstrate Lio's power (as well as amuse Zouken). His name was Shuntarou Arima, and his own Origin was [Loyalty]. This was twisted by Bloodchip to the Origin of [Dog], and so it was manifest.
> 
> Bloodchip almost never effects a pure mapping of the true Origin to the animal one; in most cases, there are elements of some other animals mixed in there. However, often one particular animal will be primarily manifest.
> 
> (It can happen that the animal Origin will manifest in a pure form, only displaying characteristics of a single animal. Indeed, to a user of certain types of Mystic Eyes that see the Origin of things, the target of Bloodchip will then be completely indistinguishable from the particular animal. The exact causes that give rise to this happening are unknown, but the phenomenon is of great theoretical interest to Magi studying Origin Theory. In addition, it is surmised that such a case would grant extraordinary abilities to the target, but that has not yet been confirmed.)
> 
> See y'all next time!


	4. The Longing of the Wanderer

The gravel cracked under Yukiko's feet as she walked through Fuyuki City.

She didn't know where to go. All she knew was that she had to get away from her Master's body, and that she had to get ready for the Holy Grail War.

She didn't know anything, in fact, right now. There was only guilt. Guilt from killing her Master.

Sure, it wasn't like she wanted to kill him. It happened while she was possessed by Amaterasu. She had nothing to do with it. She could keep telling herself this.

But in her heart, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had done something wrong. Something irreversible. This thought pulled at her, and she sought comfort.

She went to the train station, and found the ticket counter. She managed to get an express ticket to Inaba.

 

She arrived at the Amagi Inn.

She saw her mother bending down, uprooting weeds in the garden. So unassuming... but this woman was probably the foremost Magus in the entire country, outside those who had come here for the Grail War.

She watched her for a while, unsure what to say. Should she even say anything at all? She almost considered leaving.

"Excuse me? May I help you, young lady?" Her mother called to her.

Yukiko sighed. Maybe she was making a mistake. Did she really have time to waste on this?

No, she needed it. If she didn't come here, and see her mother, she would fall under the weight of anxiety long before she would get the chance to fight an enemy Servant. She needed her mother's words of comfort.

"Hi, I was wondering if I could stay at the inn for a night? I've been traveling, and I'm awfully tired..."

"Yes, of course you can. I'm Minako Amagi; may I ask your name?"

"Yukiko," she said.

"Come inside, Yukiko-chan. We'll see if we can't find a room for you."

Minako led her to the front door. "Follow me," she said.

 

"Thank you very much." Yukiko bowed slightly, and followed her mother into the inn.

Even that small interaction with her mother made Yukiko feel a little better. Walking through the familiar passageways of the inn only confirmed that she had made the right choice coming here.

The hallways reverberated with memories, as Minako led Yukiko to a room by the cellar.

Minako opened the door, and she pulled up some wooden chairs in front of a wooden table. Two seats facing each other, for her and Yukiko.

Minako sat down, and Yukiko did the same.

Minako clasped her hands, interlocking her still somewhat delicate fingers, and placed them on the table. It was almost a conspiratorial gesture. "So, what brings you to Inaba? It's not the most popular tourist destination," she said.

"I... I had some time on my hands, and I wanted to see some of the more out-of-the-way parts of this country. I have lived mostly in various large cities until now, and I felt there was something I had been missing in my life. I guess you could say I came out here to try to reclaim that, for a little while, at least. After tomorrow I'll likely be heading somewhere else, but while I'm here I want to enjoy all that this quaint little town has to offer," Yukiko said.

"I see," Minako said. She unclasped her hands and brought them off the table. She then leaned back in her chair. "Anywhere in particular you want to go after you leave here?"

"No, not really," Yukiko said. "I haven't thought that far ahead. I'd really prefer to make my plans up as I go along, rather than adhering to a particular itinerary. I feel there's more freedom in that approach, wouldn't you say?"

Minako chuckled. "I suppose you're right, from one perspective. Have you been travelling long?"

"Not really, I only left home yesterday." Sensing the relaxed atmosphere in the room, she stretched her arms a bit. "It feels like it's been forever, though. So much has happened."

"Isn't it always so," Minako said. "We are so accustomed to being at home, that the moment we leave it's as if our whole world is turned upside down, and there's a kind of a longing to just go back. I know what that's like... It can be too strong to resist, sometimes. And when that happens, you can end up stuck where you are. Never leaving, you're always safe; but you can never do anything either. Like a bird in a cage, you just sing and die."

"Isn't that... erm..."

"What? Go on, say it."

"Well," Yukiko took a deep breath. "Isn't that a bit of a morbid way to describe it? I mean, true, it's not a very eventful life, but you can still do great things staying in one place. You can focus on yourself. You can work hard to build a community you can be proud of. You can get married, have children, and play with them and love them. Aren't those perfectly valid goals? Is that really such a terrible way to live?"

"Hold on a second." Minako got up, and bent down to a small cabinet that had been obscured by the darkness of her shadow. There was a noise of a lock opening, the tumblers inside dancing to get out of the path of the ridges on a key. "Ah, there we are." She brought a bottle of alcohol with her back to the table.

Minako slammed the bottle on the table, took the glasses off the top of it, and began to open it with a bottle opener that she took out of her pocket. With a grunt, she got the bottle open, and poured the thick clear liquid into one of the two glasses. She took the other one and held it towards Yukiko, offering her some.

Yukiko refused.

Minako shrugged, put the bottle and the unused glass down on the table, and drank some of her own glass. She put it back down on the table, half full. "If that's your choice, I'll respect that. But you know," she leaned on her elbow and pointed her finger at Yukiko's face, "there is a difference between respecting another person's choices, and not caring about what happens to them."

She relaxed in her chair.

"Look, it's none of my business, really. It really isn't," she continued. "But speaking as a concerned adult to a young woman, I have to say that you should learn from my mistakes. If you don't, you'll repeat them. It's not like every time you run the same course, something different happens. The world is static, deterministic. If you put the same thing into it, you'll get the same thing out of it. The future is undetermined, yes, but that's only because the _input_ is not yet decided. Once you decide what you want to do, and you do it, the world responds in its own way according to a fixed set of rules that never have, nor ever will change. You can look at it as a sort of convex mirror; what a convex mirror reflects will always be different depending on what's in front of it, but once you put an object in front of it it will always reflect it in exactly the same way, and with exactly the same distortion. It's not possible to switch the mirror for another one."

She paused.

"There is only one world, at least on this side of the abyss of death. And unless you cross that -- and who can, and stay themselves? -- you cannot move to another world. The mirror will always remain the same, and the thing you have to do if you want to achieve a desired reflection, is to figure out exactly what you need to put in front of that mirror. Figure out how far away from the mirror, and at what angle it should be. Once you do that, you can always refer to that information to lead you in your path through life.

"This is why we have our elders, and records of ancient times. We can learn from our predecessors. Since the birth of this world, humans have experimented with putting different things in front of the mirror. They would move, tilt, and shine lights on them. At this point, all that accumulated knowledge is just sitting there in libraries, in books, and," she tapped her temple with her index finger, "in the brains of people older than you."

She took another sip of her drink, tipping the glass so that the last drops remaining fell into her mouth. After it was emptied, she licked the moisture off her lips, and let out a satisfied sigh. She placed the glass back on the table in front of her.

"So I strongly advise you," she seemed to be moving to a conclusion, judging by the tone of her voice. "Take advantage of all the resources you can, especially if they are offering themselves to you. You're a beautiful young woman, in the flower of life, and it would be the greatest shame to see you shackled down by a repressive lifestyle. Take advantage of your youth. You only get it once."

Yukiko chose her words carefully. "I see what you mean, and of course I agree with you. But, in the end, this is my decision, right?"

"Of course."

"Okay." Yukiko nodded. "I respect you as an older person, and I appreciate you taking the time to speak to someone you only just met like this. It's rare to find someone like you, and I'm glad I did."

She paused.

"But, why did you decide to talk to me like this? You only just met me; surely you must have something better to be doing," she said.

"How could I have anything better to do than talk to my daughter?"

Yukiko was taken aback. "What did you say?"

Minako chuckled. "I wasn't expecting this, but when my daughter came to me and asked for a place to stay, how could I turn her down? You're surely aware of our family's history. As the current head of the Amagi clan, my Magic Circuits are quite powerful. There's no way I wouldn't notice who you are."

Yukiko looked away.

Minako continued. "Although, the strange thing is that you haven't been born yet..." She adopted a thoughtful pose. "There must have been some True Magic -- or an imitation? -- involved, for you to be here now."

"Y-you could say that, yes," Yukiko said.

"Oh?" Minako was intrigued. "Don't tell me my daughter managed to find a path to the Root? I have to say, I'm impressed--"

"No."

Minako considered this for a moment. "I see. Well, how did you end up here?"

"I-I..." Yukiko had some difficulty getting the words out. "I've been summoned as a Servant."

"In the Holy Grail War?" Minako's eyes widened.

Yukiko nodded.

"This is the..." Minako counted on her fingers. Unclenching her index finger, middle, ring, pinky... "Fourth? No, not the Fourth..." She stretched out her thumb. "The fifth Holy Grail War, eh?"

Yukiko was silent.

"I'm proud of you."

Yukiko brought her eyes to meet Minako's, but still did not speak.

Minako continued. "Finding a path to the Root would have been a great accomplishment all on its own, but it's a fundamentally selfish thing. Becoming a Heroic Spirit requires making a name for yourself in legend, and that's impossible if no one knows about what you did. So, tell me." There was an excitement in her voice, like a child listening to stories of his famous ancestors. "What did you do? Who did you save?"

"It wasn't any big deal..." Yukiko said.

Minako scoffed. "What do you mean, 'it wasn't a big deal'? The Grail certainly thinks it was a big deal, and that's good enough for me. It should be good enough for you too. C'mon, take some pride in it! You've earned it."

"You'd laugh."

"I wouldn't," Minako said.

"Promise?"

Minako closed her eyes, and put her hand on her breast. "I, Minako Amagi, do solemnly swear not to laugh at anything my daughter tells me about her achievements." She opened one eye furtively. "How's that?"

"Fine." Yukiko drew a breath. "I saved some people who were in danger of being killed by getting stuck in televisions."

"How did they end up in the televisions?" Minako said.

"Oh, you didn't..."

"Didn't what?" Minako said.

"Nothing," Yukiko said. "Anyway, they were thrown into the televisions by a rogue deity, who treated their lives like her playthings. I saved some of them. And I didn't even do it on my own; there were others. I was just support, really... the Grail must be crazy to have picked someone like me."

"The Grail is indeed strange... Nevertheless, I don't think it was wrong here. I can tell from your aura that you're far more powerful than you let on. I see I raised a humble girl."

"It's not me that you sense," Yukiko said.

"Who, then?"

"Due to the circumstances of my summoning, the bond I formed in life was preserved. Specifically, with a certain other deity, whose power I borrow," Yukiko said. "Amaterasu-no-Omikami."

"Even so, you'd need to have a pretty high level of ability to serve as a vessel for the Mother of the Chrysanthemum Throne. Humility is good, but don't sell yourself short. You're my daughter, after all."

Yukiko looked away again. "Maybe, if I was a proper vessel... Every so often, _she_ takes control, and there's nothing I can do. She just, does whatever she wants, and by the time I wake up, she..." Yukiko started to cry.

Minako took Yukiko's hand in her own, her warm touch giving life to the girl's frail heart.

"Would you like me to teach you to control your power, Yukiko?" Minako said.

"Could you?" Tears streamed down Yukiko's face.

"Of course! We Amagi have been guarding this country for centuries; if there's one thing we know, it's the guardian deity of the land. This is assuredly why you had such inborn affinity to Amaterasu in the first place. Don't worry, there are many rituals for communing with her in our family records... as long as I can remember where I put them," she chuckled.

Yukiko laughed a little.

"There you are, Yukiko," Minako said. She used her free hand to wipe Yukiko's tears. "It'll all be all right. I'll give you a boost, and then I'll leave the rest to you. I have complete faith in you. You can win the Holy Grail War."

"You think so?" Yukiko said, her voice a little clearer now that she had stopped crying.

"I know so." Minako stood up. Her hand was still holding Yukiko's, the link of a pact between them.

Yukiko looked up at her with unfocused eyes.

Minako smiled at her. "I can't tell you how happy it makes me to meet you, Yukiko. I only envy my future self for having the opportunity to watch you grow up into the strong woman you are now." She chuckled. "Still, I look forward to getting to know my beautiful daughter."

Yukiko blushed. "I'm only here for the night, you know."

"Then let's make the most of it," Minako said. "The rituals won't perform themselves, and besides, I have a million things to ask you, if you don't mind."

"It'll be my pleasure," Yukiko said. "I'm glad to see you too... Mom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do some fluff for a change. 
> 
> Not really any new worldbuilding introduced here; Minako was named after the fanon name for Persona 3 Portable's Female Protagonist. I quite liked her, and kinda wish Persona 4 and 5 gave you the option to play as a woman.
> 
> Hope you liked it, and see y'all next time!


	5. The Sword of Peace

I am driven by madness, by a welling feeling inside that comes up from the greatest depths. It forces me to put these words down, and I must record them.

O Blessed Virgin, heed my prayer. Come to me and draw me within your arms, your Son, stained with filth. The blood of men is on my hands, and though I wash it in baptismal waters, it remains. It soaks into my skin and brings their curses deep within me, to my core. My soul is laid bare before them, and is tormented by them.

The Savior is dead and I am alive, and I fall to his knees and pray. Come to me, O Jesu, fill my heart with your love. I am a man without it. I walk the earth and all I see, I wish to destroy. I have no love -- or if it is love which I have, it is love of destruction. Save me from myself. I am only a vessel before you, and if I am shattered, bond my broken pieces together with your holy substance. Make me whole, that I may walk before you in light and life, and that I need not descend again to the holy dark beneath this world. It draws me in but I cannot go.

I cannot leave you, my Father of Light. My Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Bring me to thy kingdom, and lead me through its streets as a lamb through a meadow. Give me not bread, but let me graze on grass that I may be fully humbled before thy splendor. For thine is the staff and the table, and the cup of desire is only thine. Let me fill it, that I too may share in its blessings under your holy throne. The wheels of fire turn and swallow me in their revolutions, endlessly shifting from one world to the next. They burn me, purifying my sins and leading me to thee. Amen.

 

Kirei Kotomine finished drawing the summoning circle. All the other supplies were here, ready to call forth his Servant from the Throne of Heroes.

He had agreed to his Father's and Tokiomi's request, to serve as a support Master for Tokiomi in the Holy Grail War. They could ask him for anything, he wouldn't care. At this point, his life was devoid of all meaning.

Part of Kirei had been able to find fulfillment in caring for his wife, but with her gone, there was nothing left. His devotion to God was something that gave him an outer shell of purpose, but it didn't penetrate to the depths of his soul as he thought it should. Perhaps at least with his father on Earth, he might somehow be able to approximate the closeness to his Father in Heaven that he sought. Perhaps the love from one, would simulate the love from the other, and he might no longer be empty inside.

He stood up. The relic for the summoning -- an easy item to procure -- stood on a pedestal nearby. The fluid was held in a wine chalice in his hand. The blood within it swirled like wine, rippling the surface. He had forsworn alcohol when Claudia's condition began to worsen, but even now he kept his collection intact. Though he did not drink any of it, having the wine there seemed somehow right to him.

He tipped the chalice, and as the blood dripped onto the patterns drawn on the ground, he intoned. "Fill, fill, fill, fill. As each is filled, let it be destroyed."

The blood of Christ poured from the Grail, and filled the Earth. The Earthly vessels are filled, and shattered. Was that what he desired?

"Let silver and steel be the essence."

For thirty pieces of silver, the Son of God was betrayed to his enemies. He died not to the cold steel that pierced his side, but was left to rot in the presence of carrion birds. With this sacrifice, with this pain, he atoned for all our sins. So, why do my own sins weigh heavy?

"Upon it rests the cornerstone, and the Archduke of Contracts."

The stone that the builders rejected is become the cornerstone. He yearned for a concrete bond to his Savior, like the Command Seals manifest on the hands of Masters bound to Servants. For he felt that he was in danger of rejecting the Son of God as the Pharisees did, and severing his link to the Source of Life.

"Become the wall that repels the gale."

Can I achieve this? Can I, with my frail flesh, withstand the winds of change in this time? They threaten to sweep me away in their grasp, and I worry for my soul.

"The four gates close tightly."

Have my sins caused the gates of Heaven to close before me, barring entry?

"Burst forth from the Crown, and follow the winding road to the Kingdom."

I wish to fulfill the Kingdom of God on this Earth. If I did that, could I establish His Kingdom in my heart?

"I call to thee."

O God,

"My body, formed by thy will."

If only it were so.

"Thy sword,"

On the day of thy Judgment,

"Enforcing my fate."

Please spare my soul.

"An thou bend,"

If thy Grace,

"To my will and my justice,"

Takes note of my longing for you,

"Heed the Grail's call,"

Give ear to my prayer,

"And answer me."

And save me.

"I swear before thee."

Let a new Covenant be formed between us, Lord.

"I shall become all that is good in this world,"

I shall cultivate the virtues in my heart,

"And I will destroy all that is evil."

And I shall cut the vices off at the root.

"Seven Heavens,"

You created the world in seven days, but how long did you spend creating me? You rested on the seventh; is that it? Man was born on the sixth, and ate of the fruit before he could enter the Seventh Heaven.

"Clad in the Three Holy Souls,"

O Father, O Son, O Holy Spirit; dwell within me and I shall be as a sanctuary to you.

"Cast aside your shackles, and come forth,"

Release the bonds that tie me, and let me glow with your blessing.

"Guardian of the Scales."

I shall erase my doubts, and carry out thy will on Earth, Jesu Sancte.

As the blood in the cup was exhausted, its final drops irrigating the lines drawn on the floor, Kirei closed his eyes to the glowing that was emitted by the charged magic circle. One hand holding the cup, he crossed himself with the other, and whispered.

"Kyrie Eleison."

 

A form emerged from the cloudy chaos that covered the summoning circle. Clad in blue vestments, Kirei's Servant projected an aura of efficiency. Her Noble Phantasm was not visible, but he knew it was there.

He was pleased at the success of the ritual. Acquiring the particular set of Black Keys he had required had not been difficult at all; his father's connections within the Church had made that trivial.

"I ask you," the Servant said. "Are you my Master?"

"I am, Assassin," Kirei replied.

"Excellent." She walked to where he stood, and extended her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Master."

This was a welcome surprise. Clearly, his Servant was not the type to feel burdened by her loyalty to a Master; it inspired him to see her embrace the situation as she did. He took her hand in his own, and shook. "The pleasure is mine, Servant."

The handshake complete, she returned her hands to her sides. "I trust you seek the Grail, as I do?"

"Of course," Kirei said. "Why else would I have summoned you?"

"Masters are fickle creatures," she said. "One never knows exactly _why_ they have contracted your services, only that they have."

"I see," Kirei said. "You have nothing to worry about. I shall honor our pact; I would consider it an affront to Him in whose Name this Grail is dedicated to violate it."

The Servant looked about herself. She saw Bibles on the shelves, a crucifix above the door, and a gold cross on her Master's neck. "I see you are a member of the clergy."

"You might say that," Kirei said. "Or you might not. My own position in the Church is not terribly removed from yours, in fact."

For whatever reason, Kirei was rather enjoying this conversation.

"Oh? You mean," she stepped a few paces back, and steel blades with red hilts appeared between her fingers. "You share these swords with me?"

"Indeed I do," Kirei said. He brought his own Black Keys out. They very resembled the Servant's, if somewhat longer, to fit his larger stature. "As the Son of God said, think not that I have come to bring peace, but the sword."

The Servant bit her lip. She retracted her Keys, and Kirei did the same. "Are there many vampires remaining in this era, that the Church considers the Burial Agency necessary still?"

Kirei chuckled. "Oh, they certainly are a nuisance; however, I am not of the Burial Agency. My own employment is in the Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament. Our job isn't quite as... exciting, sad to say."

The Servant was silent.

Kirei continued. "I can assure you, all our foes will be ordinary humans. I'm well aware of your past life, and I do apologize for not providing you with heretics like the Serpent of Akasha to eliminate. Still, I trust you will find opportunities to put your skills to use."

"You've no need to apologize, Master," the Servant said. "I should be quite glad if I never have to see another of that accursed race again, even after my death."

Kirei smiled. "I can imagine. The one must have been enough, was it not?"

She glared at him.

"Wreaking havoc on a village, cannibalizing innocents... and invading the soul of a young girl, who had just begun to taste the flower of life. Truly, a despicable abomination unto the Lord," Kirei said.

Her eyes burned with rage.

"Wouldn't you agree, Elesia?"

"I serve you," she said, "And I hold our pledge divine. Thus, I shall not contravene it, no matter what personal feelings may arise toward you. I must ask, though, why do you remind me of these things, Master? Do you not know how it hurts me, to think of that time?"

"I merely wished to steel you for the coming battles," Kirei said. "The trials we shall have to face dwarf what you have seen and done. I chose you as a Servant not only for your combat prowess, but for my admiration of your life. Few have managed to contain evil within them as you, and weather the torture necessary to eliminate it. For that, you have earned my respect, and I hope to learn something of your strength before we inevitably part at the end of this War."

She felt an aura of evil from him, but perhaps that was why he sought her? Perhaps, he too felt the burden of evil in his heart, and wanted to excise it? If so, she supposed she would have to hold back her condemnation of his character, for the moment; though she burned with anger, the memories of her adolescence only tearing at her heart like the dirty claws of a bird of prey.

"Understood, Master," she said. "However, I respectfully request that you not bring that time up again."

"Granted."

"Thank you. In addition, the name 'Elesia' carries with it no small measure of pain. Might I ask that you refer to me otherwise?"

"However you wish to be called, I am more than happy to comply," Kirei said.

"Call me 'Ciel.'"

"Of course," Kirei said. "I look forward to the fruits of our labors, Ciel."

Ciel wondered what the future had in store for her. Her Master seemed equal parts kind and cruel, sincere and manipulative. His faith seemed genuine, at least. Ciel had never been strong of faith, having been prized by the Church for very _different_ reasons than the purity of her soul. She had no love for clergy, either.

The Church and its trappings in this room made her feel uncomfortable, even after ascending to the Throne of Heroes. Death was nothing new to her, and she envied this man his life. As a representative of that hated organization, her Master promised to be a thorn in her side for as long as she fought in this false War.

However, there was at least one certainty in this whole affair. Her Master was wrong.

There was no way the Holy Grail War could compare to the suffering she endured at the hands of those priests and nuns, experimenting on her unwilling flesh, trying to push her beyond the veil of death. Every time her body's time reversed itself, and brought her back screaming to this mortal world, her heart hardened. By the time they gave up and allowed her to join the Burial Agency to hunt the vampire who had defiled her body with his immortality, her heart was steel. Harder and colder than the Black Keys she carried, it was entirely impervious to pain, and pleasure. Those stone walls she erected were melted only once, but never again.

These walls would grant Ciel the ability to resist any blow, physical or emotional, and win the Grail for herself and her wish.

She bowed.

"Consider the Grail yours, Master."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evening, folks. So far, we've got... Caster, Lancer, Berserker, and Assassin. Still have three more, so let's see what happens with those.
> 
> Unlike my typical way of writing (namely, not doing it except when I occasionally feel like it), I actually finished writing this a few days ago, and have already started the next chapter. Wanted to let this one sit for a bit, before I give it a final look-over and publish. It remains to be seen whether this was a good idea or not.
> 
> I just finished Carl Jung's Liber Novus (also called The Red Book), which is a fantastic bit of weirdness. This is the prime inspiration for Kirei's monologue at the beginning... as well as his thoughts during the Summoning itself, I suppose.
> 
> Don't really have much else to say, frankly, except that I've started Fate/Apocrypha. I absolutely love Mordred, and wouldn't particularly mind if they cut most of the rest of the cast and focused on her and her Master. Yes, it may not be the most well-written or coherent iteration of the Fate franchise; in fact, sometimes it feels like a fun fanfic. But isn't that what I aspire to? Only makes sense to pay attention to a work that did it far better than I could dream of doing it.
> 
> Hope you liked it, and see y'all next time!


	6. The Serpent of Judgment

There is light. The entire world is filled with light. It is so warm, and heals my soul.

Or does it? Where is my soul? I see a figure ahead of me. He is of the form of a man, suspended in the heavens. His arms are outstretched, giving blessing to the earth below. He wears no clothing; raiments of light conceal his body, and his face shines too brightly for any to look upon it.

I look down at myself, and I see that I too am clad in such light-garments. Who are you, I ask.

I am thou, and thou art I, he answers. I am the sun, the ever-giving source of life unto the world. I am the eye of Horus, inspecting all the deeds of man, and dispensing judgment according to my will. I am the scarab rolling the sun in the dirt, and I am the phoenix, reborn in the fire and ashes. I am all and I am none, and all is below me when I rise, and above me when I set. I am the eternal one, ever living and ever dying, and I shall repeat this cycle until creation itself is swallowed up by the increasing nothingness from which I was born.

Amaterasu? I ask him.

In a sense, he answers. I am Amaterasu; I am also Helios, Ra, and Sol Invictus. I am all that shines in the heavens, and I am none of them. I am the first and last of the gods of this world, and none may ascend to the infinite but through me.

Yet you say that I am you, I say.

Indeed, he replies. All men are apportioned parts of me, for they all live only through my nourishment. My beneficence pervades all, and there is nothing that exists but by my word. I am thou, and I am the dog, and the star, and the sky. There is nothing outside of me.

Are you the moon?

I am the moon, but the moon is not me.

Yet, I am you.

Yes. Though I am all, not all is me.

You confuse me with your words.

As well you should be confused, he says. My light is too great for mortals to bear. If you could understand it, you would no longer be yourself, but swallowed by the light without end.

Must I remain myself? Your light is magnificent, I wish to possess some of its beauty.

You must, yes. If you were to become me, you would no longer exist, and your existence is necessary to the fulfillment of the plan.

My existence?

You must be you, and I me. We must engage in spiritual congress, but we must never let the boundaries of the ego fade. I am thou, and thou art I, but by no means am I thou, nor art thou I. We are one yet two, helpmates unto each other.

This makes no sense.

It is the great Mysterium; it cannot make sense, this would violate its sacredness.

Are you my soul?

What is a soul?

It is the essence of one's being.

I am not the essence of your being; if I were, you would be viewing this exchange from my perspective, rather than your own.

Then what are you?

I am he who stands within yet without you. I am he who follows you wherever you go, but is always distinct. I lie behind your vision, and can only be seen with the inward gaze of the third eye. I am thou, but I am not thou.

Stop speaking in riddles; I require an answer, else my mind may break.

Let it break. If it breaks, use those cracks that appear and let them be filled with me.

I shall be rendered powerless if my mind, that central organ, should break. Is that what you desire?

Be powerless. There is infinite strength in the weak, the power of sickness and poison to which even the greatest of all gods must fall. I am the embodiment of power, so be what I am not. Fill my lack.

Am I worthy?

It is not a question of worth. You are with me, therefore you are with me.

Your light is too bright, I cannot remain with you for fear of being burned.

If you are burned, well and good. My fires shall consume you, and you shall cool my heat.

Have you only thought for yourself?

How can I be selfish? I am thou, and thou art I. There is no way for me to benefit without you too benefitting.

You trick me with your words, evil spirit.

I trick none, least of all you.

Do you love me?

I love all, and hate in equal measure. The one cannot be without the other.

Do I love you?

Do you?

I don't know.

If you yourself do not know, how can you expect to find the answer in another?

I don't know.

You have much to learn of yourself, before you can lay claim to me.

How can I learn?

You know.

No, I don't know.

There is none who does not know, only those who deceive themselves with the lie of ignorance.

How can I uncover my lies? Can your light shine upon them, and burn them to ash?

If I did that, you would be annihilated beyond repair. Even the souls of the dead would not take you among them.

Then what can I do?

Look within yourself. Look to a place deeper than I, and higher. Wider, yet narrower. Fix your gaze on the centermost point, and allow it to expand to infinity.

 

Yukiko woke up.

What did he mean? The ritual was supposed to summon Amaterasu herself, not some sort of amalgam of different sun gods. This isn't what I asked for. What will I do?

"Oh, you're finally up," Minako said. She was sitting next to Yukiko's bed with a book, which she had laid to the side when she saw her daughter awake. "So, what happened?"

"It wasn't at all what I expected," Yukiko grumbled. "I did everything correctly, but I didn't see Amaterasu."

"Then, what did you see?" Minako tilted her head in confusion.

"I saw a man. He said he was Amaterasu, but he also wasn't, and he was everything else too... it was definitely a weird dream, so the ritual must have done _something_ , but there must be something we left out. Maybe you forgot something?" Yukiko said, drowsily.

Whack.

Minako had hit her on the head with the closed book in her hands.

"Hey," Yukiko glared at her. "What was that for?"

"As if I could screw up a ritual as important as this. Hmph," Minako said. "That _was_ Amaterasu."

"Huh? Amaterasu is definitely female, I know that," Yukiko said.

"Well, if anything, I did it _too_  perfectly," Minako said, apparently ignoring Yukiko. "Instead of the particular manifestation of the Sun, I managed to bring forth its essence? Nice!" She pumped her fist in the air in triumph.

Yukiko was annoyed. "I'm glad you're happy, but are you sure you're not just trying to justify a screwup?"

Minako raised the book over her head.

"I mean," Yukiko said, "I don't entirely understand what you said, o Honorable Mother, so would you be so kind as to explain it to a worm such as my pitiful form?"

Minako raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's going a bit overboard?"

"M...Maybe," Yukiko said. "Please don't hit me again, though. I just got up and that really hurt."

Minako chuckled. "Heh, fair." She put the book down on the nightstand. "So, you want to know why you saw what you did?"

Yukiko nodded.

"All right. So, essentially, at the formation of this world from the Root of endless Chaos, many things sprang forth. I trust you know this much?"

"Of course," Yukiko said.

"Good. This makes things a bit simpler. Anyway," Minako continued. "There was at one point a certain essence that flew out of the Spiral of the Root, called [Shining]. This essence was formless, and wandered space until it found matter it could attach itself to. The vast expanse of the cosmos proved inhospitable, but it was a strong essence, among the first to emerge from the Spiral. So it gathered scattered particles all around, and formed them into a luminous mass. Before this essence took shape in this way, there was 'light', as an abstract concept, but there was no object to bring it forth from abstractness to reality.

"The matter that this essence coalesced into a shining mass eventually became what we call 'Sun.'"

"I don't entirely understand," Yukiko said. "But go on."

"All right. This essence, as the 'Sun,' continued to exist alone in solitary confinement. There was nothing for it to shine its light upon, so it was held back from its innate drive to illuminate something. It shook and churned itself, trying to pour its light upon itself, but it was always frustrated."

"It was full of light already, so what was the point?" Yukiko asked.

"Exactly, there was no point. But the drive had to go somewhere, even if it meant overloading itself with its light."

"How sad," Yukiko said.

"Indeed," Minako said. "So it waited for something else to arrive, that it could shine on. Eventually, something did. This was the Moon, and the 'Sun' shone its light upon the dark cold Moon, and it was happy."

"What a lovely ending," Yukiko said. "But how is it relevant to me?"

"You'll see soon, be patient. The Moon had an essence defined by [Reflection], but it was met with a similar trouble to the Sun's; it had nothing to reflect the Sun's light against. It searched, but the only things that existed were itself and the Sun, and the Sun was the source of light; there was no point in reflecting the light straight back at the Sun."

"So what did the Moon do?" Yukiko asked.

"It spoke to the Sun, saying 'I hate you, for only you can fulfill your desire. I too wish to give unto another, but there is none but you.'

"The Sun replied, 'If I am to give to you, I cannot simultaneously take from you the ability to grow and become that which you must. Allow me to borrow some of your essence.'

"The Moon was uncertain, but it trusted the Sun to engage in intercourse with it. Their essences merged for but a moment, and when they were done, the Sun spoke to the Moon. 'You shall suffer no longer, the pain of wealth. I have accepted a small part of your reflective nature into myself, so you can now shine your light upon me, and I shall accept it.' For you see, the Sun only accepted the absorptive aspect of reflection, and not the returning aspect."

"How strange," Yukiko said. "You sound almost like him."

"Him?" Minako asked.

"The man in the dream," Yukiko said.

Minako smiled, then laughed. "Really?"

"I don't know why you're laughing, but yes."

Minako stopped laughing, and put her hand on Yukiko's shoulder. "Sorry, Yukiko; this is just hilarious."

"Whatever," Yukiko drew away from her mother's hand.

Sensing her daughter's mood, Minako withdrew her hand.

She continued. "So, the Moon was overjoyed at this. For many eons they continued in this way, the Sun shining light against the Moon, and the Moon returning a portion of it to the receptive part of the Sun. Eventually, the Moon said to the Sun, 'Come, beloved. You give to me, and I to you, but I wish to give with you together. I want to join you in the act of giving, on the same side of the divide.'

"The Sun replied. 'But there is nothing beside us, dear one.'

"The Moon thought, and said, 'Then let us craft a Third, who might embody both our essences in equal measure, and whom we might set up on the other side of the great divide, facing us.'

"The Sun replied. 'Your words please me, my love. Then let us do so. I shall gather the particles of light, and I leave to you the particles of dark.'

"The Moon left the Sun, and happily went about her task. She gathered particles of dark from across the reaches of empty space, revelling in the emptiness that was so close to her own nature, in its nonbeing. She put it all together into a single mass of darkness, and returned to the Sun, who displayed his own ball of light.

"The two masses merged, and a blue sphere emerged from the chaotic dance of light and dark.

"The Sun spoke. 'Behold, Moon; we have created a composite being, sharing in both our essences.' The Moon was glad for to have participated with the Sun in a mutual activity of giving, and replied to the Sun. 'Indeed, beloved. Now let us set it across from us, that it may gaze upon us, and we upon it.'

"Then the two of them placed it below, such that if a line were drawn directly upwards from the newborn sphere, it would be exactly in between the Sun and the Moon. Then they established a separation between them and it, transparent and immaterial. They called this the firmament, and charged it never to allow a remixture of the sphere, which they named 'Earth,' with themselves. For they knew that on the day this happened, the Earth would surely die, its composite parts rejecting their unity and the light parts jumping back to the Sun, while the dark parts went to the Moon."

Yukiko interrupted her mother. "Are you.. entirely sure this is how it happened?"

"Am I?" Minako said. "Perhaps it did, perhaps it didn't; does it really matter?"

"I should think it does," Yukiko said.

"You have much to learn, then, daughter."

"Well, given what happened last night, I suppose I can suspend disbelief somewhat longer," Yukiko said.

"Excellent."

Minako continued.

"After this, the Earth was granted light and dark from its two creators. After some time, the conditions reached a point where the Earth had achieved an independent consciousness, such that it too desired to give unto another. It approached its parents with its concerns, and they all conferred about what to do. There were only two essences, so it seemed pointless to create another Earth-like being that would be essentially the same, with the same problems.

"The Sun came upon an answer. 'What say you two to the creation of a race of beings, each embodying elements of light and dark, in infinitely variegated measure?' The Moon and Earth agreed immediately, for the idea pleased them immensely. The Sun then shone his light, the Moon her dark, and the Earth prepared herself to give forth that race upon her soil. Soon, men were formed. The males bore the solar aspect, and the females the lunar, but much like the Earth that bore them, each individual male and female possessed a mixture of solar and lunar, no two individuals having the same distribution.

"This race proliferated on the Earth, and the Earth gladdened of their presence and happiness. She thanked the Sun and Moon, and her feelings of gratitude began filtering to the men upon her. Soon, they too established temples unto the heavenly creators, worshipping them under many names. Each human formed his own inner pair of twin deities, Sun and Moon, which differed from those of his fellows. In this manner, every aspect of each of those celestials was celebrated and cultivated.

"Therefore, while most men worshipped the light-giving masculinity of the Sun, and the dark-giving femininity of the Moon, exceptions arose. In the land that came to be known as the Sun's Source, whence the Sun rises above all the Earth, humans tapped into the hidden feminine aspects of the Sun, and the hidden masculine aspects of the Moon. In this land, the persona of Amaterasu, the Heaven-Shining goddess, arose.

"Therefore, Yukiko, the man you saw in your dream was indeed Amaterasu; you saw the psychic manifestation of the original essence of [shining]!" Minako smiled with pride. "As expected of a daughter of mine, with the aid of a ritual I prepared."

"That's all very well and good," Yukiko said, unimpressed, "But this seems to be a problem for us. I'm glad you're proud of how you did, but now that you summoned this original essence person or whatever, he's telling me I can't 'lay claim to him' without uncovering my lies, whatever that means."

"Yes, and?" Minako said. "It's not like you wouldn't have to do that anyway."

"Would I?"

"Of course," Minako said. "There's no way you could unlock your own Origin without _something_  terribly unpleasant. You should be glad this is all you have to do; there are cases of far worse requirements." She shuddered.

"My... Origin?"

"Yes, Yukiko," Minako said. "Your Origin is the defining point of what makes you who you are, the dot in the middle of your soul that contains everything in the universe in absolutely no space. And in _your_ case," she pointed at Yukiko's chest, "Your Origin just happens to be the very same [shining] as our dear Mr. Sun's."

"Then..." Yukiko was confused by this sudden turn of events. How could her mother say so casually, something so important? It didn't make sense to her. "How do I do it? How do I uncover my lies? Don't tell me you don't know, I know you do."

Minako laughed. "Indeed, I do. All right, close your eyes, and listen to what I say. Don't question any of it. If I ask you to do something, just do it."

"Fine." Yukiko sat on the bed, and closed her eyes.

 

Minako's voice suddenly became serious, like someone reciting a precise formula. "You are a single point."

In Yukiko's closed eyes, she saw a black view. Nothing existed around her, she wasn't sure she existed either. There was only the infinite spreading blackness, in which she felt herself flow.

When her mother spoke those words, she felt the flow stop. She hated that. She hated how her mother made the flow stop. Like a rock in the center of a flowing river, the flow pushed against her and moved around her, threatening to uproot her from her position. She had no will, though, so she stood motionless in the center of that flow. It pushed. She resisted. So it was.

"You are a line."

She felt herself spreading. She became a line parallel to the flow of the river. The river flowed against her, and she stood in the center standing against its flow, but now she was an infinite line, splitting the river into two halves. Each half now pushed against every point along her entire length, and she felt like she was going to break. The dark was too powerful, and she, like an insufficient vessel, was to be shattered by its assault.

"You are a circle."

She felt her line retract from its infinity. The length became finite once more, and the ends began to wriggle like the head and tail of a snake. The head sought the tail, and the tail the head. Eventually, they found each other, and the head bit the tail, forming a perfect ring of self-inclusion. Outside the ring, the river had turned into a swelling ocean, but inside there was pure tranquility. A single point within the ring, at the very center, began to glow. Yukiko was the ring, but she felt herself drawn to that point. She slowly constricted herself, her diameter shrinking until there was almost no empty space within. Only the point remained, with the faintest outline of dark separating it from the ring that was Yukiko.

Then she stopped, for she felt she could no longer continue to constrict herself, lest she break. The point began to glow more brightly, its light spreading and forming a pillar leading directly upwards, perpendicular to the plane on which Yukiko had been moving. As the pillar rose, she saw a form at the top, holding out a hand to her.

She rose, spinning as she ascending the pillar in her ring form.

Soon, she reached the top of the pillar. There, the same form awaited her as was in her dream.

 

I see you have returned, he said.

I have come to purge myself of falsehood, Yukiko answered.

How do you wish to do that?

Yukiko constricted around his form of light. I cannot do it on my own, she said.

You mean to force me into your service?

I did as you said. I focused on my centermost point, nurtured it, let it expand. You are the result. I merely require you uphold your end of the bargain.

So you did, so you did. Very well, then. Are you prepared to accept the responsibilities that I will place upon you?

Whatever they may be, I take them.

Even if it saps you of your very will to live?

Anything would be preferable to the hell I have endured till now. I wish never to hurt another again, consumed by some unconscious power lurking deep inside of me. I wish to have full control of my actions, to do with my powers as I see fit.

I am thou, and thou art I, he said. From the sea of thy soul, I come.

Yukiko tightened around him, and broke the barrier of light around him.

I am the Light unto the world, and thou shalt inherit me.

His body felt unbelievably hot, like it would burn her, but she knew she was safe. She tightened further, and felt him begin to break.

I am thou, and thou art I, he said. An thou accept my burden, thou shalt illuminate the Earth and Moon. Thy hand shall be against all men, and all their hands against thee. He who strike thee shall be cursed, and he who bless thee shall partake in your light.

I am thou, and thou art I, Yukiko replied. She tightened further. The force caused him to break in two, horizontally at the abdomen. She then disengaged of her ring form. Her head coiled around his head, and her tail around his feet.

Now, you shall become your True Self, he said. But first you must finalize the ritual.

Yukiko swallowed his head.

She then writhed, as she felt the light within her. It burned her innards. The pillar she was on began to fall, and she began hurtling toward the dark sea below.

 

As she fell, she looked down and saw the dark waters. Within them, curses arose. Arms white contrasted against the black water, and stretched to pull her in. Caught in their grasp, she wriggled. Still, her serpentine form could not escape the thick leathery palms that grabbed her.

Though she saw no form external, she heard a voice in her head.

"Shine."

Obeying the command from within, she felt cracks appear in her skin. Light poured out like fire from her cold black skin.

The hands holding on to her began to slacken their grip, but still they held on.

The cracks spread, and as her skin fell apart, she spoke.

"I expel you, curses. You may no longer dwell within me, as you have. You shall be rigidly circumscribed, and outside those limits you will never go."

The hands redoubled their efforts, trying to pull her body apart. If they could kill her, she could not enslave them.

However, it was too late.

Yukiko's body was almost entirely skinless. Only her head retained a full covering, and even that now began to crumble away.

Burn, she thought.

Immediately, the hands grabbing her were immolated. Their ashes sank into the black sea.

I think I should like to retain a mask, Yukiko thought. The skin on her head began to reform, such that she was now a serpent of pure white light, with a head of darkest night.

 

"Yukiko?" The voice of her mother called to her, calling her out from herself.

Yukiko opened her eyes. She saw the she had apparently fallen asleep on the bed. She raised a hand to her brow, and realized that it was covered in sweat. She suddenly felt hot in her whole body, and began clawing at her clothing.

Her mother quickly rose. She had a bottle of water in her hand. She pushed Yukiko down against the bed, and tipped the bottle into her mouth.

The cold liquid flowed into her mouth. She nearly choked on it, but it soothed her throat. She had not known how dry it was, but the water's coolness let her know the dryness by its opposite. The pleasure of her thirst's relief was exquisite, and she calmed down. Her body cooled, and she began to feel as normal.

She quickly drank all the water in the bottle, and felt the heat drain from her blood. She now only wanted to sleep.

"A success, it seems," Minako said. "All right. Congratulations, Yukiko. Your True Self now lives within you. You must now fulfill his duties, without being consumed by his light. The fact that you have survived the ordeal means that you must have taken on a mask; a persona. This mask will protect you from total dissolution, so you must never let it break."

I know, I think... I just want to sleep.

Minako's voice held her back from the relief that she sought.

"You are the culmination of what we in the Amagi family have worked for, since the beginning. As the matriarch, I cannot help but be filled with pride. I implore you to go forth, and unleash the power of Amaterasu on the wicked."

She paused.

"But... as your mother, I want you to be happy. I don't know how you can balance that with the power that lives within you, but that is something for you to figure out for yourself. I will be there to support you, but I can do nothing for you if you do not extend your hand first."

Minako bent down, and kissed Yukiko.

Yukiko's eyes were closed, but she felt warmth on her forehead.

Minako stood up, and went to the door.

"Now, sleep," she said. A door opened, then hung a moment before closing.

"I love you," Minako said.

The door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo.
> 
> Yukiko's can now use Amaterasu's power freely. Also I kind of like Minako, she's very cute. Well, maybe that's authorial bias. Hmm.
> 
> This chapter is probably more influenced than the last chapter by Jung's Red Book, I think. All that inner dialogue stuff is pretty prominent in there.
> 
> Listened to, among other things, Queen II; being Queen's 2nd studio album. Really good stuff, they're my favourite for a reason.
> 
> Speaking of, I've begun an Eva rewatch... Too many feelings come up when I watch it, and honestly not all of it's pleasant. But I'm confident it's a good thing to confront them. I mustn't run away.
> 
> See y'all next time!


	7. The King of Conquerors

What is this headache...

Waver Velvet held his head in his hands. He had just woken up, still unsure whether he'd be worthy of the Command Seals. He had gotten hold of a relic, though, so he knew there was a pretty good chance of it. Besides, all those blowhards at the Clock Tower were nothing compared to him. Nothing! He bet by the time he was their age, he'd be able to teach their classes in his sleep.

Idiot Archibald. Insulting his essay? It was perfectly backed up, research showing the validity of all of his points. Clearly, it was only an expression of his own insecurities, that he chose to pick on a student who was more intelligent than he was. Lord El-Melloi must think himself too far above mere students, especially ones without much lineage, to even consider that they might be right and he wrong.

What a stupid aristocracy they had over there, anyway. Elevating men and women from the old families to high rank, encouraging them to look down on everyone else... this was nothing but a recipe for incompetence at the highest levels, as everyone up there had their head too far up their own ass to know what to do about anything.

Well, too late for them now. I have the relic and I'll win this War.

...I just have to do something about this headache, first.

Waver, one hand covering his eyes from the bright sunlight streaming in through the window, used the other to throw the thick blanket off of himself. It was way too heavy for this weather, and he realized he had been sweating all throughout the night. His cotton pajamas, blue with white pinstripes, were soaked around the underarms.

"Another thing to wash," he muttered.

He stood up. He was a bit unsteady on his feet, as if the headache were interrupting the nervous signals from his brain to his feet. His bare heel hit the ground as he moved to the door of his bedroom.

 

_creak_

 

The old wood complained as he opened the door. "Shut up," he told the door.

He left the room, and closed the door behind him.

 

_creak_

 

"I told you to shut up," he muttered angrily. He wasn't in a very good mood this morning.

Deciding to leave the door for now, he ventured toward the bathroom. Looking at the carpeting covering the upstairs hallway, and the paintings on the walls, he wondered what sort of people lived here. They were probably still asleep in their bedroom. They seemed nice, but he didn't know much about them.

Well, the longer they slept, the happier he was. He felt a bit guilty about taking advantage of them like that, but he felt better about it since he wasn't really hurting them at all. He knew how to fine-tune the potions he was putting in their drinks, so as to avoid any adverse effects. You had to be careful with old people. Bodies get weak, fragile... the last thing he wanted was to find that he had killed innocent people in his quest.

The Mages' Association had a rule about outsiders who witnessed Magecraft. They were made to forget about it, or eliminated. It was a rule Waver had always hated, one he felt smacked of a sense of elitism and selfishness. Wanting to concentrate all the knowledge and power of Magecraft in the old families. Sure, they said that all they wanted was to research a Way to the Root, but if that was the case why make Magecraft such an exclusive art? Invite to the Clock Tower anyone who showed promise, so that they too could contribute to the endless chain of research. Doing things this way only stagnated the search for Truth, which disgusted Waver.

Truth is paramount, and I shall win the Grail and find it. Show those bastards.

He entered the bathroom, making sure to open the door slowly. The creaking just made his headache worse, and he couldn't afford that. He opened the medicine cabinet, and found what he was looking for.

Magecraft was an excellent thing to study, and had provided Waver with many hours of bliss whiled away in libraries. But that appreciation for the rituals of old didn't mean he couldn't appreciate modern science, and what better triumph of science was there than the small white convex cylinder in his hand?

Aspirin. He popped it in his mouth, took a small paper cup next to the sink, and took a drink of water to wash it down.

He already felt better, even though the medicine couldn't possibly have been metabolized that quickly.

He checked his reflection in the mirror. Dark brown hair, messed up by his sleep, covered his face. He looked terrible, haggard.

Well, who could blame him? He had been running around for a week, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the people at the Clock Tower who wouldn't have been terribly happy to learn about what he did with Archibald's relic. Then, making it to Japan on Satou's advice, he hypnotized an old couple who lived on a ley line near Fuyuki into thinking he was their grandson. That itself was a real ordeal; it drained his mana every second the spell was active, and he had to keep it up whenever they were awake.

Still, Satou wasn't an idiot. The Inaba ley lines were really great, and Waver could feel his mana recharged just by being on top of them. They ran through Fuyuki, mixing with the ones that fuelled the Holy Grail ritual, but very few people knew about them. They were his, and his alone, as far as this Holy Grail War was concerned, and he planned to use them well.

He lifted his right hand to brush aside the bangs that covered his face.

When he did so, he saw something in that mirror which made him entirely forget the pain in his head.

"YES!"

He held his hand in front of his face, admiring the back of it.

"Command Seals..." he gazed in wonder. He hardened his expression. "Of course, of course... it was only a matter of time." He nodded to himself. "The Grail recognized my talent, and is rewarding me with Command Seals. Clearly, it believes that I deserve to fight and win the Holy Grail War."

He balled his hand into a fist.

"It won't be disappointed."

 

Waver stood in the backyard of the old couple's house. He looked at the summoning circle he had drawn in the grass. Wasn't really possible to draw on grass with chalk, so he had had to use spray paint; he didn't think it would matter, though. Unlike the Mages' Association, the Grail wasn't bound by outdated traditions. As long as it worked, it didn't care how anachronistic his methods were.

He held the coffee cup in his hand, filled with mercury. It was covered in frilly patterns of spider lilies, which embarrassed him a bit, but he hadn't had the foresight to pack his own vessel for the invocation fluids.

Iskandar's shroud stood on a pedestal made up of old milk cartons. He hoped the King of Conquerors would forgive the ignoble circumstances of his rebirth when he saw how skilled his Master was.

Waver took a deep breath.

He held the mercury-filled cup in front of him in his left hand, raising it slightly above his head.

"Fill, fill, fill, fill," he said, the excitement rising within him. "As each is filled, so it is destroyed."

They'll cower before my Servant. I've basically won already. Maybe they'll be smart enough to surrender.

"Let silver and steel be the essence."

So what will I do after I win? I mean, the honour of winning a Holy Grail War is great and all, but I'll have access to the most powerful wish-granting artifact mankind has ever seen. I'll have to figure out what I'll use it for at some point...

"Upon it rests the cornerstone and the Archduke of Contracts. Become the wall that repels the gale."

I guess the main issue is that I won't have the chance to get my hands dirty, with my Servant doing all the work. I won't be able to demonstrate my own skills as much. Ah, well. That's the price you pay as a Master.

"The four gates close tightly. Burst forth from the Crown, and follow the winding road that leads to the Kingdom!"

Wonder what happened to Archibald, anyway. He probably just gave up when he realized the relic he had was a fake. Maybe he's even sent people after me, from the Association? Let 'em try. My Servant will stop anyone who tries to get me. And he can, too, especially with me behind him.

"I call to thee! Thy body, formed of my will; thy sword, enforcing my fate! An thou bend to my will, and my justice, heed the Grail's call and answer me!"

I bet Iskandar would be ecstatic to learn that I'm his Master. He studied a tonne of philosophy in life, so he'd certainly prize talent and training over bloodlines. I bet Archibald wouldn't have been able to discuss Homer with him like I would. I doubt he's even read it. Imagine, summoning a Servant without doing the research.

Idiot.

"Seven Heavens, clad in the Three Holy Souls, cast aside your shackles and come forth; o Guardian of the Scales!"

The summoning circle, which had been glowing this whole time, finally began to blaze with a great light. Waver kept his eyes open as long as he could, and just before he had to close them, he thought he glimpsed the form of a large, muscular man. Finally, the light filled his vision, and he had no choice.

There was a noise of rushing wind around him.

The wind stopped, and he felt it was safe. He had no idea what the historical Alexander had looked like, since there was no pictorial evidence or anything like that, so he didn't know what to expect. He didn't care, though; all that mattered was that his Servant would crush the others, and even if he was as short as all the history books said, they won't be able to underestimate his strength.

He opened his eyes.

Standing before him was a large man, almost a giant. He must've been 8 feet tall. Muscles rippling through his arms, chest, and thighs. Wearing a brilliant crimson shroud like a cape around himself, and armor encrusted with gold. A crown of red hair, and a short beard, also red. In his hand he held a short sword. He smiled at Waver.

Waver was amazed at the Servant. He knew he'd be strong, but... looking at him, and gauging his stats, he was truly amazed. He hadn't expected this... he had never thought that something like this would really happen. He knew he deserved it, and knew that he was good enough to do it, but to think it really could happen... it was too weird for him. He had to close his eyes, and open them again, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Boy!" The Servant -- Iskandar -- spoke, apparently confused. "What are you doing?"

"I...I--" Waver stammered. His... Servant! Talking to... him!

"What?" Iskandar walked over to him, and put his hand on Waver's shoulder. "Is this the first time you've done this? Don't tell me you were expecting someone else? Hmm..."

Iskandar was lost in thought for a moment, when he noticed that his hand was no longer on Waver's shoulder.

He bent down to the ground, trying to revive his Master's unconscious form. He was lying there with a look of confused ecstasy on his face, his limbs still. His toes were bent a bit.

Iskandar put his ear to his Master's chest, and was glad to hear a heartbeat. He flicked his Master's forehead with his index finger, causing him to open his eyes crying, and holding his hands to his head.

"Owww... It must've been a dream after all," Waver said. "What's wrong with me, that I actually thought the Grail would pick me, of all people? Maybe I should just give up... The aspirin wore off too... What'll I do now?"

"Good question," Iskandar said, from behind him.

"Well of _course_ it is, who do you think..." Waver froze. He took his hands away from his head, and turned around.

On seeing Iskandar's grinning face, he immediately remembered the events leading up to his fainting several minutes prior. His mouth opened in shock, and he pointed a finger at him.

"Y-You..." his finger shook. "Are you... really?"

Iskandar laughed heartily. "Of course! Who else would be summoned, with that shroud as a catalyst?"

"Then... then..." Waver lowered his finger, and looked down at the ground, then back at Iskandar. "It worked?"

Iskandar nodded.

"Oh, well that's nice, isn't it," Waver said. He tilted his head back, and stared at the heavens. "Hahahahahaaha!!! I did it!"

He faced Iskandar once more. A mad grin. "Hahahaha!" He touched Iskandar's face, feeling the shape of his cheeks and the texture of his beard. "Prickly."

Iskandar seemed amused at this. "What a strange Master you are. Tell me, boy, what is your name?"

"My name? My name..." Waver seemed a bit confused. "Waver. Yeah, Waver Velvet." He removed his hand from Iskandar's face, stared at it for a moment, and held it out. "Shake."

"Nice to meet you, Waver," Iskandar said. He took the hand, and shook it vigorously. Letting go, he said, "So, what is your wish for the Grail?"

"What do you mean? What Grail?"

"Well, the Holy Grail. The one we Servants are summoned to win for our Masters. Surely, you know of it?"

"Oh, yeah... that one. I almost forgot about it. Why do you ask?"

"I must have assurance that my Master is worthy of me," Iskandar said. "If his wish is to use the Grail's power for cowardly aims, I cannot put myself with him. In that case, I may as well disappear here. So," he leaned in close to Waver. Waver could feel his hot breath on his face. "Tell me, Waver. What is your wish?"

"Well, I... wait. I can't have you disappearing, not after I finally managed to summon you."

"Hmm? There's no need to worry about that, boy. I doubt you have particularly evil desires--"

Waver raised his right hand to the sky, and the Command Seals began to glow. "Servant! By this Command Seal, I order you to stay he--"

 

_flick_

 

Iskandar's index finger slammed into Waver's forehead with such force as to immediately render him unconscious. His body flew twenty feet.

Iskandar once more walked over to his Waver's unconscious form, and looked down at his face. It was frozen in an expression of pride.

He shook his head.

 

_Truly, a strange Master._

_But... there is something within him, the makings of a great leader. Perhaps he will make a fine addition to my army, one day._

_I merely have to train him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. Hope you liked the chapter!
> 
> Waver's friend, Satou, is named after the protagonist of Welcome to the N.H.K. I read the novel recently, and it shook me. Reminded me of like a Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for the otaku. Speaking of Hitchhiker's Guide, I realize in hindsight that the way I wrote Waver here, he resembles Arthur Dent a bit. Hmm.
> 
> Read Hitchhiker's Guide, by the way. Good series.
> 
> I think the next two updates will finish our roster of Servants, then maybe we can get to the fun bits. (Truthfully, the Summoning scenes are my favourites in Fate/Zero, so this is probably why I keep dwelling on them, heh.)


	8. The King of Knights

"My love, I'll do whatever I can to support you. As my husband, and dearest friend, you've shown me all that I could ever want to see about the outside world. This is just my way of showing appreciation. Your wish is beautiful, and it will create a happy world for Illya. To that end, I would be honoured to serve as the Grail Vessel."

Kiritsugu's wife, Irisviel, had said those words to him.

But now, when it was finally time to perform the ritual, he had to wonder: Did she really mean it? It hurt him to think she thought so little of her own life that she'd sacrifice it so readily. A part of him knew she was entirely sincere, but another part of him hated that.

All he wanted was to bring peace to the world. So why did he have to sacrifice those he loved? His wife meant more to him than anything, and the idea of a life without her was too terrible to contemplate. Having their daughter, Illyasviel, would be comfort, but no compensation. Nothing could compensate for anyone's loss; human beings were too unique for that.

He looked at her now, in the room Jubstacheit had set aside for the ritual. She smiled at him, a smile of purity and innocence. He could only feel a sense of despair when he looked at it. He could enjoy nothing more in this world, for he knew that all good things would be taken from him eventually.

Irisviel von Einzbern, the culmination -- no, the precursor of the culmination -- of the alchemy of the Einzbern magical family, holding the ancient relic.

Avalon, the crystallization of his most secret wishes. Kiritsugu was too much of a pragmatist to allow himself to think that he could achieve his ideals without its aid. Something within him resonated with it, and so he knew that the relic Acht had chosen was the most appropriate to him. When he had met Acht, it had seemed to him that the man knew more of his heart than Kiritsugu himself did.

He regretted having told Irisviel his dream. The hope it brought in her eyes created a strong quality of pain in him. It was like he had shot her with his Origin Bullet, and infused his own dream into her. It was frightening, the level of power he had over another living creature, homunculus or not. Whatever Irisviel's origins, she had definitely developed into something that could only be described as human, in her thoughts and emotions. He loved that about her, that despite being a machine in nature, she had transcended her limitations to achieve humanity.

Whereas he had been born a human, but had thrown it away at the time of the great fire on Arimago Island. Natalia had said to him, "Doing what you think you should, rather than what you want, is a task for a machine, not a human being."

He wished he could have followed her advice, but it seemed as if everything he did originated from that one defining event, and he could not escape it. He felt caught in the endless pangs of Samsara, the cycle of death and reincarnation. He didn't know how to reacquire his lost humanity. It seemed like he had already killed it.

But when he looked into Irisviel's eyes, he saw that the life and love he had put in her was very much alive. It had even resulted in a completely new person. Their child was the physical incarnation of their shared love, but beyond Illyasviel, he could sense Iri reflecting his love and hope back at him.

She _was_ his humanity, now.

Every time he killed, he had to turn off his emotions. Natalia had commented that he was a born assassin, who could immediately disconnect his emotions from his trigger finger, but she failed to realize the toll that takes. When he had finally convinced himself there was no more humanity left, things were easy. He could pretend that he was dead and gone, and now only the body of the man named 'Kiritsugu Emiya' still walked this earth. Then he could ignore the demands of his soul.

Irisviel showed him that this was a lie. A delusion.

He was not strong enough to go on pursuing his goals, and he feared that he would crack before the work was done. He was fairly confident in his abilities as a Magus-Killer, but he was deeply worried for his psychological health. In that sense, being with Iri was a boon to him, as she always managed to restore peace of mind to him. He was deeply grateful to her, and loved her and Illya more than any other.

"Kiritsugu," she said to him now, in the front of the pews. "Are you all right?"

"Iri," he said, brushing off her question. "Put the scabbard on the altar."

Irisviel did as he asked, though he could sense that some of his own worry was present in her face as well. Did she notice, he wondered.

He stood over the summoning circle. Acht had ensured it was readied, with all the necessary components, days in advance. Kiritsugu was not one for the ritualism and formality that the Einzberns were so fond of, but he co-operated with them for the sake of peace.

He held his hand over the circle. Avalon on the altar before him began to glow, even before he uttered a word. It was as if it had sensed his thoughts, and responded to them. How silly, he thought.

"Fill, fill, fill, fill." His voice was even, though his heart felt the import of the moment. "As each is filled, so it is destroyed."

A voice rang out in his head. It was the sound of a girl, asking him to kill her. Was that the ultimate fate of all things? To fill with love, and light, and then to crush them under the boot of darkness?

"Let silver and steel be the essence."

The steel of a bullet was a stronger thing than soft, pliable silver, but those were the two forces that ruled this world. Kiritsugu knew this well, and had frequently exchanged steel for silver when he felt it necessary to further his plans. Men died as much to silver as steel, and they both sickened him.

"Upon it rests the cornerstone and the Archduke of Contracts."

THe main difference between human contracts and magical contracts, was that magical ones were inviolable. He had had to kill people before to collect on promised payments. If contracts were the cornerstone of this world, then the world must be founded on magical means to have any basis in reality. In order to support the new world he wanted to fashion, he would have to employ the detestable means of True Magic to create the foundation, even if it killed him. Magecraft required sacrifices; Equivalent Exchange was the most basic principle upon which all others rested. The True Magics were something beyond even that, and their price would be commensurately higher.

Well, he was prepared.

"I call to thee! Thy body, formed of my will. Thy sword, enforcing my fate!"

If Kiritsugu's fate were enforced and carried out to its logical conclusion, it would be like shooting an Origin Bullet into the heart of the World itself. He would untie the fibers that created human nature in its present form, cut and retie them in a manner more suited to his own nature. If any sword could enforce this, it would be the Sword of Promised Victory. So he put his faith in the King who loved his subjects, with the hope that he of the Table Round would willingly pledge his sword.

It was always easier when all involved parties were aligned to a common goal.

"An thou bend to my will, and my justice, heed the Grail's call and answer me!"

Most men would be tempted to answer the Grail's call, as it promised them infinite power over other men, or perhaps over themselves. Kiritsugu had no such selfish motives, as he had convinced himself that it was a foreordained fact that he would end up suffering and dead by the end of this. He merely wanted his end to mean something, as a man who could be proud of his death. He trusted himself not to waver in the face of the opportunity to use the Grail for anything else, for there was nothing -- would be nothing, after Iri was gone -- within him that could want anything, save that.

"O Seven Heavens, clad in the Three Holy Souls! Burst free from your shackles, and arise, o Guardian of the Scales!"

The room filled with light, though the light could not penetrate Kiritsugu's darkened heart. He kept his eyes open the whole time.

Irisviel gasped at the shining light.

* * *

 

Where am I?

Oh. There is grass. A meadow, filled with life, and the joy of light. The sun shines, and the wind sings. The sky is high, the unreachable eternity of our salvation.

There is a girl. Her golden hair reflects the sun, sending rays of light into my heart.

Her clear eyes reflect the sky, and I can see in them the promise of everlasting peace.

She smiles at me, and I find her arm outstretched. I grasp it nervously, and she laughs as she leads me forward on the endless grass.

As we walk, I ask her if she will leave.

"If I do, I shall return. My remaining with you is eternal; separations are only temporary, and will be judged as such by the great cycle."

Despite the confusion her words brought me, they carried a strong security. I needn't worry about losing her.

My love.

 

Soon we reach an incline in the flat plain. I am scared of ascending it, fearful that I may never descend back to safety.

But she urges me forward, and I cannot bear to lose her shining countenance.

The peak is invisible, but as we grow closer, I make out a shining blade. It is embedded in a stone, a symbol of the destructive powers bound to a secure foundation, and nullified.

When we reach the sword in the stone, she urges me to pull it out.

I do not want to, but I could not bear to make her sad.

I try, but it only comes out halfway. No amount of effort on my part will do anything more.

I fall to the ground in anguish, worried that she will be disappointed in me.

She just laughs at my clumsiness, and with a light stroke of a single hand, she pulls it out.

The sword in her hand glows gold, and she floats above the ground.

She raises it, and aims for the stone in which it was encased.

I call to her, telling her not to destroy it. There is still much within that stone I need, and I cannot lose it yet.

She looks at me. "Whom do you desire? The sword or the stone?"

"I... I want both. Can't I have both?"

She shakes her head. "No, you cannot."

I cry.

"I cannot choose," I tell her.

"Then you shall have neither."

She turns toward me, and lowers her sword onto me.

* * *

 

Kiritsugu returned to himself. The vision he had just seen must have been connected to the ritual, the work of the Grail in some way. It troubled him, but he put it aside. His Servant stood before him.

"I ask you," the voice said, its owner hidden behind obscuring mist. "Are you my Master?"

"I am," he said. "You are the Servant Saber, whose True Name is Arthur Pendragon?"

The mist cleared.

Kiritsugu was taken aback by the face he saw behind it, fixed in a solemn gaze at him.

It was that of the woman in his vision.

"I am Arturia Pendragon, Queen of the Britons. I have been summoned into the Saber Class. My sword is yours, Master."

"I expected a man, but no matter," Kiritsugu said. "I shall expect you to fulfill your duties as Servant; until I give you further orders, you are to protect the woman behind me."

Saber looked at the delicate form behind her Master.

"Understood," she said. "Her life shall be as my own. You need not worry; her safety is guaranteed."

He smiled. "I hope so."

 

Saber stood by the window in the Einzbern estate, as Irisviel sat at a table nearby.

"Why does Master not keep me dematerialized," Saber asked. "It seems inefficient of him, to keep me in physical form when there are no threats nearby."

"Kiritsugu has his reasons," Irisviel said, with a note of longing in her voice. "He always knows what he's doing, even if it's not obvious to others. But Saber," she lifted her face to the Servant, who turned to her. "I think in this case it's quite clear."

Saber tensed.

"Is there a threat of which I am unaware, milady?"

"No, that's not what I meant." Irisviel laughed. "Just that he probably thought I'd be lonely here without him, so he wanted me to have some company."

Saber's fingers relaxed their grip on what would have been her sword, had she manifested it.

This era was strange and wonderful in its own ways, but in other senses it really wasn't very different from her own. Much like she and her Knights had quested for the Holy Grail, so too Magi left their families to do the same.

She knew that the wives of most knights were happy -- indeed, proud -- to see their husbands off, but the loneliness was something that plagued them. Especially the ones of higher status; it seemed that they had a greater tendency to the cloistered life. But that was really just one reason among many for a knight to be absent; it was something their women had to get used to, eventually.

She wondered how Guinevere had spent her time.

Well, she didn't need to wonder. The highest knight of the Table Round, Sir Lancelot du Lac, took it upon himself to keep her entertained when her husband was away.

He had been extremely ashamed of his actions, but in truth, Arturia was glad that he had supported Guinevere during those times. She cared deeply for the Queen, and often felt torn between obligations to Country and People on the one hand, and the Queen on the other. Lancelot gave her the opportunity to pursue the work of ruling the nation without any qualms about it.

For this reason, she had not pursued strict justice for him, and was secretly happy when he had escaped burning at the stake.

That was another of the changes in this era, was it not? Justice, generally speaking, was far more lenient than it had been in her time. Certainly, many people were imprisoned for their crimes, but the death penalty was only reserved for the most heinous offences. And there were public advocates to support the accused, who received fair trials in public courts of law!

Truly, the ideals she had fought for, a just country under just laws, had been realized beyond her wildest dreams. A state that serves the common man, without being his oppressor.

If things had progressed so, did it really matter if Britain had succumbed to destruction? Which was more important, the land or what it stood for?

"It is my honour, Lady Irisviel," Saber said with a light bow.

"You know, this 'Lady Irisviel' business is a bit satisfying, in an odd way..." Irisviel mused. "I almost feel like asking you to call me by my name only, without title or honourific, but I'm enjoying this far too much."

Saber smiled. "I am glad."

Irisviel stood, and came to Saber. She clasped Saber's hands in her own.

"Hey, Saber. I'd like to get some fresh air; would you care to accompany me? My knight."

"Of course, milady."

Saber opened the door leading out of the room, and gestured to Irisviel to exit first. Irisviel made a light bow of her own, then went through the doorway.

Saber looked about the room before she left, just in case. The nature of an enemy was that they always lurked behind corners, in places where one would least expect them to be. Her Master seemed the type who would rebuke her for needless caution, wasting time.

Old habits died hard, surviving even the transition from life, to the Throne of Heroes.

Satisfied, she closed the door, and followed Irisviel down the corridor.

Irisviel walked with a light gait, almost skipping. Saber was glad to see her charge so happy, and her carefree manner reminded her of her own life.

The carelessness with which she had lived her earliest years, before drawing the Sword of Promised Victory.

Those were truly dreamlike days, so hazy on the very bounds of her memory. She had near-perfect recollection of certain moments in her life, but very little of the days before she took upon herself the royal destiny.

All she could remember was light, happy footsteps. Running on the grass, playing with the other children. Her white clothes took on dirt and grass stains, but she didn't care. The fun of those days came back to her now, and she felt she could understand and appreciate how Irisviel felt right now, and quite apart from her obligations to her Master, she wanted to preserve that happiness.

The corridor was dark, lit only by fluorescent lights intermittently placed along its length.

"Almost there, Saber!" Irisviel called, running ahead a bit.

She reached a wooden door with black iron bindings upon it, and opened it.

A black automobile waited outside the door, which seemed to lead to a driveway. Irisviel excitedly opened the door on the driver's side, and jumped in. She honked the horn.

 

 

_beep beep_

 

 

She opened her window and stuck her head out. "Saber~! Come on!"

Saber came to the passenger's side, and opened the door.

"Irisviel, I thought we were going to take a walk--"

"Heheh... This is much more fun, though, wouldn't you agree?" Irisviel wore a devilish smile, reflecting deep wells of impish mischief from the lowest reaches of her soul.

"Your wish is my command, milady," Saber said, getting into the car gingerly.

"Indeed it is, Saber, indeed it is." Her smile was beginning to worry Saber, but she calmed herself with the knowledge that her charge was merely having a bit of fun. And if so, who was she to argue?

Saber smiled reluctantly, and began to put on her seatbelt.

"Oh, don't bother with that," Irisviel said, her hand on the stick shift.

"But it is the law in this country, is it not? Furthermore," Saber said, looking at Irisviel's waist, "I see you are not wearing a seatbelt yourself, milady."

"Yes, and?" Irisviel was now fiddling with the mirrors, holding one eye closed in a perpetual wink as she endeavoured to make the reflection angle just so.

"And it is my duty to ensure your safety, Irisviel."

"Kiritsugu worries too much, sometimes," Irisviel said, still checking the mirrors. "I have you with me. What else do I need to be safe?"

"I cannot protect you from an incoming car, or building."

Irisviel left the mirrors, and turned to Saber. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted, and her face smiling. "If that becomes an issue, I will be glad if you would use your Invisible Air to propel us out of the path of danger."

Saber was shocked. She grabbed Irisviel's shoulders. "Milady, I cannot guarantee the accuracy of that skill of mine. It was not made for transport."

Irisviel pouted.

"Milady, I am serious. My honour as a knight rests upon my due diligence to keep you safe. Please, humour me."

Irisviel sighed. "Fine... I'll put my seatbelt on."

Saber took her hands of Irisviel's shoulders. "Thank you, Irisviel."

"My pleasure, Saber." Irisviel locked her seatbelt into place. "In the end, the last thing I'd want to do is worry you. Your concern is far too touching for me to make light of it."

Saber sat, calmly waiting.

"All right!" Irisviel pulled the stick back. "Let's go!" Her foot slammed on the accelerator, and with a screech of the tires, they sped down the stone-paved road.

As they passed the scenery on either side at lightning speed, weaving in and out of lanes, Saber was impressed at Irisviel's driving ability. That is, at her ability to drive like this without collisions.

Truly, admirable.

Watching pedestrians on the sidewalk duck for cover, and other cars swerving out of the way, she understood the pride Irisviel projected through her driving. It was as if everyone who saw her respected her as the King of the Road, and made way for her passage.

"Wahooo!" Irisviel shouted in glee, as the car drifted over a ninety-degree turn.

Saber saw that she had the same look on her face that she herself had worn during jousts. The rush of wind as the horse galloped forward, the cold steel of the lance in hand, the fear of being impaled by the enemy, the excitement of overcoming the challenge and emerging victorious -- Irisviel felt all these things, Saber knew.

"Thank you, Irisviel."

"What was that, Saber? I didn't-- WHOOOOO!" The car managed to wind its way on a perpendicular path through two lanes of traffic. The cacophony of car horns behind them made conversation impossible.

 

_Thank you, Irisviel, for showing me what it was like. I had forgotten -- no, I had tried to forget, but I was unable._

_I suppose Kiritsugu must indeed be wise, just as you say. Not only did he think to protect you by assigning me to your guard, but he may have known that your influence would help me regain the joy I had lost. Perhaps a lack of joy makes efficient, fair rule easier, but I may have acted too rashly in simply jettisoning that part of me from myself. Perhaps the epitome of kingship is a king who loves both her people, and herself._

_Perhaps there is indeed something to be gained by being happy on the throne._

 

Irisviel now drove the car over a small hill, and their speed caused them to remain in the air for a brief moment before crashing back down.

The inside of the car was shaken by the impact, and Irisviel turned to Saber. "Saber, are you all right? I'm sorry about that... I didn't see the incline."

"No, Irisviel, worry not. I am quite well. In fact," Saber sported her own devilish smile now, "What say we double back and do that again?"

Irisviel's eyes brightened. "I _like_ this side of you, Saber."

She moved the car back in front of the hill. "You ready?"

"Whoo," Saber said.

The car flew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Hope you liked this chapter!
> 
> I suppose I was in the mood for a bit of fluff. I've not written Kiritsugu nor Irisviel before; honestly, I think the way I wrote Iri is very reminiscent of Taiga Fujimura. Or, well, her driving persona is.
> 
> I finished this while listening to Asian Kung Fu Generation (it's long, so call them AKFG or ajikan)'s album, Kimi Tsunagi Five M, as well as the OST for the nonexistent Tsukihime anime. Which is a very good OST, I highly recommend it.
> 
> Only one Servant remains for the next chapter. See y'all then!


	9. The King of Heroes

"So, Kirei, what do you think?"

Tokiomi Tohsaka asked his star pupil, in the deep basement of his magical workshop.

Kirei looked around himself, at the jewels on the table, the ancient grimoires in the bookshelves, the intricately inscribed Summoning Circle on the floor. Indeed, it seemed a most stately setup. Appropriate to his Master's wealth and prestige.

Kirei wondered to himself. What sort of comparison might be made, between the Summoning Ritual of his Master, a man who had been training for this moment all his life, and who had learned from his ancestors the secrets of the Grail, and his own? Kirei had certainly done well enough in his own performance of the ritual -- evidenced by his Servant, standing next to him -- but was it indeed the same? He felt almost as if his own performance was a fake, a pale imitation of the true act of his Master.

Being not of magical lineage, his native Magic Circuits were a bit anomalous. Not terribly so; not outside the realm of possibility, but outliers nonetheless.

He wondered how his Master thought of him. Perhaps as a dog, come to lap up the secrets of Magecraft? Perhaps a son adopted?

No, he knew the truth. His Master thought of him only as a tool for the achievement of his own ends.

He had had plenty of opportunity to come to this conclusion, during their 3 years of training. Tokiomi would always display impeccable patience with Kirei's errors, few though they were. Kirei felt as if he were almost mocking him.

He thought of a particular incident.

* * *

Once, Tokiomi had been instructing Kirei on the method of precise pranic focus. It was apparently necessary to imbue one's Servant with the highest possible stats, but it required a supreme amount of control of the ambient flow. The Tohsaka manor was built upon a primary ley line in Fuyuki City, so the magical energy flowing through the air -- especially _underneath_ the ground itself, hence the workshop's subterranean location -- was more than sufficient to allow for a great deal of prana to be focused. Assuming the Magus' ability.

Of course, it also raised the possible risks, should the focus go wrongly.

Tokiomi held his hands out in front of him, facing a silhouette of a man painted on paper nailed to the opposite wall. The man's arms were outstretched, and upon his body was superimposed a network of nodes and connections. Kirei was already familiar with the nature of that network; it was something any member of the Assembly would be intimately aware of.

The Tree of Life.

The diagram, showing the paths through which the energy of life traveled from God Most High, down to the lowest realms of Hell. The nodes, places where the energy collected, and was transformed in its valency.

The silhoutte was marked with a circle saying 'Kether' on its skull; Hebrew for the 'Crown.'

It was at this point that the energy arose from the navel of power of the supernal realm; from there, it flowed down to all the other nodes, eventually reaching 'Malkhuth' -- 'Kingship' -- at the feet.

And so the Creator bestowed his beneficence upon Man, the lowest of his creatures. Yet, though Man was the most fallen of Creation, being subject to the taint of Original Sin, he was also the object of Kingship. The Lord wished not rule over animals, plants, or lifeless rocks. He had made Man in His Image, that he may be one with him.

Kirei saw that the silhouette's ankles were pierced. As were the arms; the right one marked with 'Hesed,' 'Love'; and the left with 'Gebhurah,' 'Power.'

Truly, the Christ was but the embodiment in this mortal realm of the Tree of Life. And just as He rose and fell, it is the nature of the Tree to rise with divine Light, and after expressing the Light within it, fall once more into the deepest Darkness.

So too, his Master explained, was the nature of a Magus' Magic Circuits. One must fill them with magical energy, aim them toward a specific end, and express their nascent potential. If this were done correctly, the harmony of the rhythmic movements of the Tree of Life as it was expressed in the natural world would vibrate in tandem, and the effect of one's own magical output would be increased exponentially.

"Abzug, in die Wasserflusse, nehm ich Vogel!"

Tokiomi's controlled voice, loud and ringing, summoned two doves in the air before him. They danced around each other, their forms indistinct and fluid.

Kirei watched as they molded together at the climax of their dance, becoming a transcendent pillar that seemed to illustrate the brightest heavens at their summit.

Tokiomi then clapped his hands together, and the pillar collapsed in on itself, as if matching his movements. Finally, it became a single point of power, through which was reflected the depths of Kirei's soul.

He saw the roiling chaos inside that point from where he stood, transfixed.

"Der Tag ist Nacht."

The point blinkered out of existence, and Kirei was returned to reality.

"So you see," Tokiomi said. "That is how it is done."

"Master, might I do the same?" Kirei had asked, tentatively.

"Of course you might," Tokiomi replied. "In fact, you must. I am fully aware of your inborn potential, and I would be remiss if any student of mine would fail to exert himself to the fullest in his magical studies. After all, you are to serve an important role in this coming War."

Kirei was silent. Which role did he mean?

"Now, stand as I did, Kirei."

Kirei imitated his Master's stance, holding his palms outward against the silhouette.

"Picture it in your mind. Form a complete, conceptual understanding of exactly what it is you are gathering the energy *for*. The magical energy is much like water; it will not gather without a sufficient force circumscribing its domain. This domain is the end to which you gather it. Know it well, and the flow will go of its own accord."

Kirei thought. What is it I want? I...

The vision of heaven shown in the pillar was beautiful, certainly. But why does it not entice me, so much as the end of the spectacle? While I can appreciate intellectually the beauty of the vision of heaven, I felt not the same visceral tug towards it as I did to that final, singular point.

A small hole in the cosmos, I looked within it and saw Chaos. I saw the stormy seas, and felt my innermost soul long for it.

I... I want to see that again.

I want to see its tumbling depths, expressed as they are through the visual parable of a ship on treacherous waters. But I know, truly, that that parable is no more than a convenient device for human eyes. No, beyond that imagery something more... essential, lurks. It is that which attracts my heart.

"Well, Kirei? Have you fixed it in your mind?"

"Yes, Master."

"Excellent. Now, recite the incantation to increase your focus. If all goes well, as I expect, I shall be witnessing a truly miraculous phenomenon."

Kirei calmed his nerves. His entire body was on razor's edge, due to the excitement of the concepts he was considering, deep in his subconscious. He began at his feet, tensing, then relaxing the tight muscles there. As he worked his way up, he began to recite the prayer.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy Name. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."

From his navel below, he was entirely relaxed. His hands, the tools through which the visualization would become real, were next.

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from Evil."

All that remained now were the muscles in his face, the ones through which his expression and perception of the World were mediated. Essential to the practice of Magecraft was one's perception, for that determined the potency and affinity of one's abilities. Too strongly bound to the World, and one's inborn mana reserves dried up; whereas the Magus too deeply tied to himself would be entirely unable to harness the ambient magical power, as Kirei was now attempting to do. Balance was key.

"For thine is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Glory; forever and ever. Amen."

The right eye looked outward, the left eye inward, and the Third Eye looked above and below.

The focus inside Kirei coalesced to a concrete image of what he sought.

He sweated, and felt the energy welling up. It came from his spine, flowing through his ribs and collecting in his heart. It then traveled to his collarbone, where it split into two paths. Each path went through a different shoulder. The right path was light, the left was dark. He endeavoured to preserve balance in the two.

The energies came to his palms, and he willed them to be released.

A crackling of thunder was heard, and before him, Kirei saw a red and black ball of lightning flashing in a swirling vortex.

He smiled.

He slowly increased the energy output, and the ball grew.

When it was almost the size of his head, he felt it grow unstable. But he couldn't help but keep feeding it energy; it was so beautiful, and he desired it so.

"Der Junge ist tott."

Tokiomi's voice cut through Kirei's reverie, and he saw the phenomenon he had summoned quickly blink into nonexistence.

"Master, why?" Kirei asked, in shock.

"Kirei," Tokiomi said, "Magecraft is a noble pursuit. Indeed, there is none nobler, and no aim higher than the Swirl of the Root. It is this to which I, and all other Magi, aspire. To this goal we devote our lives, those of our children, and so on; all in the hopes that one of our line might achieve this enlightenment."

Kirei was silent.

"And Kirei," Tokiomi said, "I consider you as much my student as I do Rin. Therefore, I applaud your efforts to create a strong manifestation of power. However, rather than following the essence of the form I demonstrated, why did you direct your attention to its final moments of decay? Is this perhaps due to your background?"

"What do you mean, Master?"

"Never mind, think nothing of it. In the future, I will request that you pay closer attention to the central aspects of any rituals I show you. That will be all for today, Kirei."

Tokiomi walked to the steps leading up out of the workshop.

* * *

 

Ever since then, Kirei had had the nagging feeling that Tokiomi had a certain detachment from him; that he was unable -- or unwilling -- to see Kirei as a human being, rather than a tool.

Certainly, if these feelings were indeed accurately reflecting reality, they would be all the more true with regard to Tokiomi's vie of his Servant.

To Kirei, Servants were beings to be respected. They had all achieved a measure of immortality by doing great deeds. They were almost incarnations of the zeitgeists of the eras from which they came, the crystallized forms of the hopes and ideals of their origins. Kirei wanted to learn the things they could teach him, for he felt that perhaps by doing so he might learn some divine truth, deep within himself, that lay eternally outside his grasp.

Perhaps Tokiomi's desire for the Root was similar, in a sense; but his Master's manner occasionally infuriated him. A mere ideal was not worth sacrificing one's life for, nor making others suffer. Such was evil, especially in the absence of any concrete gain.

He wondered why his Father had decided to strike this deal with Tokiomi in the first place. Wasn't he aware of the man's utter lack of devotion to God? It seemed as if Tokiomi must have some... hidden good attributes, of which his Father knew and Kirei did not. Still, they must be fairly deeply hidden.

"Kirei?" Tokiomi said.

Kirei noticed his Master was still looking at him. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw his Servant Assassin was looking at him as well, with a trace of anxiety.

"Yes, Master," Kirei said. "It is most well-equipped; I look forward to the Summoning."

"Indeed, Kirei," Tokiomi said. "I hope not to disappoint you; the relic I have procured is sure to evoke the most powerful of all Servants."

Tokiomi gestured to a black leather case on the altar before him. Kirei saw that its insides were a rich, red velvet, with a rectangular pocket in the center, in which a light-brown, scaly object rested.

"Behold," Tokiomi said. "The skin shed by the first Snake at the dawning of our world. It stole the fruit of immortality, but could not escape the entropic curse in all things, by which they must needs return to the Root from whence they came. Or at least, make concessions to its pull."

"From dust to dust, as they say."

"Quite so, Kirei, quite so. Then, shall we begin?"

Kirei took the beaker of mercury from the table beside him, and handed it to Tokiomi, who accepted it gracefully.

Tokiomi cleared his throat.

He held the beaker over the circle, and tipped it slightly. It was nearly full to the brim, so even this shallow tilt was enough to bring forth several drops of the viscous, silver liquid.

As the first drops fell, Tokiomi intoned.

"Fill, fill, fill, fill. As each is filled, so it is destroyed."

The traces of the circle on the ground glowed with a red light, and Tokiomi adopted a subdued smile.

"Let silver and steel be the essence. Upon it rests the cornerstone, and the Archduke of Contracts. And for the Ancestor, the great Master, Schweinorg."

Kirei wondered if the physical link of the Crest between the Magus and the Ancestor was of great import in the Summoning Ritual. He imagined it must be.

"Become the wall to repel the gale. The four gates close tightly. Burst forth from the Crown, and follow the winding road that leads to the Kingdom."

Smoke began to billow, obscuring the Summoning Circle from view.

"I call to thee! Thy body, formed of my will; thy sword, enforcing my fate! An thou bend to my will, and my justice, heed the Grail's call, and answer me!"

A crackling. Kirei could not see clearly what was happening within the cloud of smoke above the Circle, but he thought he saw vague outlines of lightning flashing within. Just like on that day.

"I shall become all that is good in the world, and destroy all that is evil. Seven Heavens, clad in the Three Holy Souls, cast aside your shackles and come forth; o Guardian of the Scales!"

The outlines of lightning danced around each other, melding into one single sphere of red light. Kirei was entranced by its motion, spinning on its axis. It grew, until it covered the entire diameter of the Circle. Then there was a sound of a thunderclap, the sphere disappeared, and the room shook.

Tokiomi's smile remained on his face, as the glass bottles rattled on the tables around him.

Soon, the smoke began to dissipate. A human form was visible within the Circle, and as it became clearer, Tokiomi's smile spread from ear to ear.

"We have won, Kirei! The Grail is as good as ours."

*Ours? Or yours?* Kirei thought.

The smoke finally cleared, and Kirei could see clearly what lay within.

A golden glow covered his shoulders; indeed, his entire body seemed to be a solid gold colour. Only after Kirei's eyes adjusted to the brilliance did he see the contours of golden armour, and the Servant's head emerging from it.

Pale skin and red, red eyes. Atop that, blond hair.

Next to him, his own Servant tensed. She said nothing to him, but he could tell that she felt wary of the gold Servant.

"Master," Kirei said. "Who is this Servant?"

"This is the King of Heroes," Tokiomi said. "Gilgamesh of Uruk. The first of all heroic spirits, he surpasses them all in strength. With him on our side, none can stand against us."

Gilgamesh's stony face gazed upon them both with disdain.

"Which of you summoned me?" He addressed this question to both Kirei and Tokiomi, while directing his gaze at a point in the air in between them. Kirei's Servant, Ciel, seemed to have escaped his notice entirely.

"It was I, o Mighty King," Tokiomi said, with a bow. "Your humble slave shall be most honoured if you would bestow upon him your grace, and fight on his behalf in the coming battles."

"Tch."

Tokiomi, still bowed, raised his eyes to see Gilgamesh scoffing at him.

"Do you mean to imply," Gilgamesh said, "That I am no more than a common soldier, sent by you to fight as cannon fodder?"

"Certainly not," Tokiomi said. "I merely meant that the glory of the King at the front lines of battle is sure to reduce the hearts of the enemy to shattered pottery before you."

"Is that so, _Master?_ "

"But of course, King."

"Hmph," Gilgamesh said. "I hope for your sake that it is. I shall not tolerate the empty drivel of mongrels in my presence, and if that is what you prove to be, you will have earned a thousand deaths at my hand."

Tokiomi stood upright from his bow.

"I am Tokiomi Tohsaka. I shall beg of you, King of Heroes, to dematerialize for now; the toll taken on my mana reserves by keeping your godly form substantiated is, regrettably, far too great for a worm as myself to bear."

"Very well," Gilgamesh said. He began to fade into a mass of golden particles in the air, sparkling and refracting the ambient light like prisms. A kaleidoscopic panorama was formed, and Kirei was entranced by its beauty.

The Servant's voice echoed, though his form was gone. "I trust you will prepare a more suitable stage for my next appearance, Tokiomi."

Tokiomi's stiff stance relaxed. "Well, Kirei, have you any thoughts on my Servant?"

Kirei thought for a moment.

"He seems incredibly powerful."

"Indeed," Tokiomi said. "His Noble Phantasm contains within it the power to reverse the direction of revolution of the Vortex at the center of this World. Beyond that, he has innumerable weapons of lesser power. Truly, there is none who can stand against the absolute power of the King."

Tokiomi exhaled a heavy sigh.

"I'll ask you to go home for the evening, Kirei. I'm quite fatigued from the summoning, and I shall have to excuse myself to rest."

He walked up the stairs leading from the basement workshop to the main Tohsaka mansion, opened and closed the door.

* * *

 

Now alone with him in the rectory of Kotomine Church, Ciel turned to her Master.

"Master, I do not trust that Servant. He has a strong aura... it makes me uncomfortable."

"What do you mean, Ciel?" Kirei asked her.

She cast her eyes downward. "Simply, there is a presence within him not entirely dissimilar to that I observed in the case of the Princess of the True Ancestors. You are familiar with her story?"

"Of the basics, certainly," Kirei said. "A being created by the True Ancestors, those who were the original progenitors of the vampiric race, in order to root out any corrupted individuals within their midst."

"Exactly," Ciel said. "She possessed a strong sense of power -- it was almost on the level of a Divine creature. Being tied so closely to a powerful Origin as that of vampirism, she was like an abstract concept given form. Like a force of nature, impossible to defeat or subdue without a counter force of at least equal strength."

"Well, that _is_ significant. But," Kirei asked her, "Why is that a problem for us? We are allied to Tohsaka, and Gilgamesh is Tohsaka's Servant. Thus, we have nothing to fear, and indeed should give thanks to God for providing us with such a powerful ally."

"It is my experience that such power, when concentrated in a single individual, is too chaotic to be bound by such assurances as the Master-Servant pact, or personal loyalties. I witnessed the Princess attack the person she loved above any other with blind fury, her consciousness reduced to that of an animal seeking blood. In Gilgamesh's case, his power is leagues beyond hers; if I had to compare them, I would say that he is like the full force of the Holy See, whereas she was like a priestly student training in seminary. Moreover, he seems not to care about showing deference or even cordiality to his Master, who provides him with the magical power necessary for him to maintain his physical form. Thus, it is my assessment that this Servant will rebel in time, whether willing or otherwise."

Ciel lifted her eyes to meet Kirei's.

"I see, Kirei said. "However, I shall ask you not to speak of this to Tohsaka himself."

"May I ask why, Master?" Ciel's eyes penetrated his with their gaze. "If for no other reason, it would behoove us to help our ally to survive this conflict. And I'm certain you do not want a crazed, Master-less Servant running amok and destroying the balance of the Grail War. The Independent Action skill of the Archer Class would allow him two days on Earth after he has done away with Tohsaka."

"Tohsaka's doubtless considered this already," Kirei said, "And has either decided to reject the possibility for being too slim, or else has established precautions in the eventuality that it does occur. Or both."

Ciel stared at him for a moment, trying to break his solid facade of tranquillity with her gaze. Finding the attempt unsuccessful, she said, "I am here to fulfill your will, Master. But, do not blame me should matters go awry."

"Understood, Ciel. I accept fully the consequences of my decision. You may consider yourself absolved of all possible guilt."

She dematerialized without a word.

Kirei went to his own bedroom. It was decorated after the Spartan manner: Nothing but a bed with plain white sheets, a small wooden bedside table holding a bronze lamp with a single candle, and a leather-bound copy of the Holy Bible.

The bed was carefully made, its sheets tucked in tightly, with no room for error. The lamp was similarly pristine, polished weekly. He lit the candle, and sat to read before going to sleep.

He opened his Bible to the marked location.

In it, the prophet Daniel addresses the King of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar:

"Thou, O king, art a king of kings: for the God of heaven hath given thee a kingdom, power, strength, and glory. And wheresoever the children of men dwell, the beasts of the field and the fowls of the heaven hath he given into thine hand, and hath made thee ruler over them all. Thou art this head of gold."

How appropriate this passage to Gilgamesh, Kirei thought. Both Babylonian kings, and certainly there is no better adjective to apply to Gilgamesh than 'golden.' And just as Nebuchadnezzar's Babylon was succeded by inferior kingdoms, so too was Gilgamesh's rule.

He flipped to an earlier section, which had been marked for further analysis.

"The beginning of his kingdom was Babel and Erech..."

Erech, the Hebrew name of Uruk in Sumeria. The former seat of King Gilgamesh's power, now in ruins in modern Iraq. Situated on the banks of the river Euphrates, which arose from the Garden of Eden, it was truly given all manner of divine blessing.

According to the legends, Gilgamesh had rebelled against the gods of heaven, and had formed the first kingdom of men. Under his rule, all lived in peace and harmony. Perhaps not in luxury, but they lived existences independent of the gods' tyrannical rule.

Although, what difference did it make in their daily lives? The common man had no need to worry about angering the gods; the king was the intermediary, and it was he who ordered the people on the gods' behalf. Conversely, it was he who was punished if the gods' demands were unmet. Like an immediate superior, the people only ever interacted with the king.

So when the divine yoke was thrown off, only the king benefitted.

Yet, Gilgamesh was known as the King of Heroes? Why? Merely because he had built a wall around the city?

No, that was insufficient reason to be called a Hero, much less first among them.

Kirei pondered this for a moment.

Gilgamesh's myth was only indirectly related to his rule over the men of Uruk. Primarily, it was concerned with his journey to find the fruit of immortality, which he undertook in order to conquer his own fear of death.

An entirely selfish journey, for entirely selfish motives.

What sort of Hero was this? Was not a Hero one who protected the weak with his strength?

And yet, he had earned a place within the Throne of Heroes. Clearly, the Grail was not as exacting as Kirei was when it came to such moral judgments.

Or was it the opposite? Perhaps the Grail _was_ entirely as strict with its moral judgments as Kirei was. Perhaps it chose Gilgamesh precisely for his purely selfish, yet entirely understandable motives.

Perhaps this is what allowed him to serve as the archetypal Hero. One whose legend embodies the struggle which undercuts every other in man. His mortality.

The never-ending struggle by mortal men to overcome that one final limit that can never be conquered. Though a man may conquer nations, other men, and even his own soul, he may never conquer Death itself.

Like the heel of Achilles, it is the one ineradicable flaw in an otherwise masterful organism.

This must be what the Grail treasures, Kirei concluded. Its 'morality' was not built on a traditional scale of good versus evil, but on a scale of archetypality versus mundanity. The better one can extrapolate from a single legend to all legends, and the lives of all men who came after, the higher its position in the Throne of Heroes.

Conversely, those Heroic Spirits whose legends were only relevant to their specific circumstances, and thus did not inspire the hearts of men to share their tales, ranked at the very bottom.

Perhaps their existence was necessary, to occasionally flush out the desire of men for superficial relevancy; but due to the lack of archetypal applicability, they were condemned to be bottom-feeders in the pool of Heroes.

This new form of morality intrigued Kirei. He desired to know how Gilgamesh perceived the world, how he judged his fellow men. By which system _did_ men order their lives, at the very beginning of history? Myths and legends could only tell so much. He could not pass up the opportunity to inquire of the genuine article, an eyewitness to the infancy of humanity.

Yes, though his Master would perhaps not approve, Kirei knew he had to personally approach Gilgamesh and ask him.

And if Gilgamesh did end up rebelling against his new Master, Kirei wanted to be spared his wrath.

 

_You're right, Ciel._

_Nothing is more important than a good ally._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya folks.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this one; I feel like I approached it in a way not entirely dissimilar to the way I approached Chapter 6. Though I prefer Chapter 6 to this one... Hm.
> 
> I should probably write that kind of thing more. I like it.
> 
> I've been listening to a lot of Queen lately; here's a lyric from March of the Black Queen that I like applying to people like Kirei:
> 
> "Why do I follow you, and where do you go?"
> 
> Like he's addressing some part of him that leads him to evil. Tentatively. Seductively. But he deceives himself, by pretending ignorance of the final destination of his path.
> 
> Additionally, I'm quite happy to finally introduce Gil to this story. Historically, he's been my favourite Fate character. Even though I've recently come to the conclusion that he is literally worse than Shinji Matou, if you consider his actions as a King, and so forth. But many of us love him anyway. I know that for me, he represents the strong allure of evil. And though I deny it entry to my soul, I still have to respect its power. Or something.
> 
> He's cool.
> 
> Anyway, see y'all next time!


	10. The Pit of Love

I see her walking down the hall. I watch her kimono sway; it invites me, beckoning me to join her within it. It is blue, but beneath is her supple white skin, and beneath that is her dark red blood.

Today isn't the first time I've watched her, only the most recent. I've hungered after her for a long time, though she doesn't know I'm here. But that's fine. I love her and will be with her. There is no room for her to disagree with that.

We are destined for each other.

Her noble bearing makes my saliva run. If my mouth weren't closed tight, it would overflow and stain the floors.

Watching her, put one foot in front of the other. The delicacy of her toes, I want to run my tongue on them and bite them off.

I follow her. I match her pace, keeping this distance. This distance is perfect, just far enough that she doesn't notice me, but close enough for me to smell every bit of sweat emanating from her body. Like the liquid form of her exertions, of her actions in this world, it travels through the air to my nose.

I drink it in.

It tastes so good, I let it fill my lungs. I feel the air carrying her scent in my throat, and it energizes me.

I walk faster.

Soon, Ryougi, you will be mine.

She stops.

Now is the time.

I grab her shoulder.

"Hey, Ryougi-san," I say.

She turns around, with a look of confusion.

"Excuse me, who are you?"

No.

It's not her.

Then... was it a mistake?

How dare she deceive me?

No, I wasn't wrong. It is Shiki. It has to be.

Why is she pretending not to know me?

No matter.

I run, my footsteps pounding on the floor.

I lunge at her, my teeth enter her neck.

They dig deep, crushing skin and bone.

She screams for a second, before she can make no sound through her throat but a light whistling.

I chew the mass of her neck, and swallow the powdered bone and soup of blood and muscle.

It tastes so good.

Now, I have to run. I can't let myself be caught here.

I take my schoolbag, and put her freshly decapitated head inside.

I leave her body here; no one will think it was me.

My alibi is ironclad.

I jump through the open window, and head to my hideout.

* * *

 

Kariya opened his eyes, his forehead covered with a film of sweat.

_So, this is the Servant I have summoned? Even in my dreams, he torments me..._

"Good morning, Kariya." The voice comes from beyond where he can see in this dark.

_It must still be night._

"What is it, Zouken?" Kariya asks the voice.

"I couldn't bring myself to wake you, you seemed to be having such a pleasant rest," Zouken said, standing in the corner of the bedroom.

"Quiet, old man. What do you want?"

Zouken chuckled. "Oh? You think I've come here for my own selfish reasons? Can't a man visit his son to ensure his wellbeing?"

"A man, yes. Not you."

"You wound me, Kariya," Zouken said. He smiled. "It's just that, you seem to be having some difficulty maintaining your Servant. Your magical energy output is quite low naturally, so I was going to suggest some way you might ease your burden."

Kariya winced, as he remembered the Crest Worm implantation ritual. "You put those accursed worms in me already; thanks to them, I should be able to produce enough magical energy to last the War."

"Indeed, Kariya," Zouken replied. "However, those worms take a toll on your body. They wear you down, reducing you to bubbling skin and flesh, your bones long since dissolved. Which, I will admit, is a slow and painful process that I greatly enjoy."

Kariya was silent.

"So," Zouken continued, "I have an idea. A measure you can take, to ensure your body remains intact enough to complete your task of winning this Holy Grail War." He cocked his head to the side. "Can I take it you are interested?"

Kariya closed his eyes, and sank back into bed. He didn't want to hear any of this. His father's voice only added to his pain, by reminding him of all he had suffered till now. Bringing back those memories, and compounding them with the current pain, was something he hated.

So he resolved not to listen. To ignore him.

"You can close your eyes, but do you enjoy the pain even more than I do? Enough to want to drag yourself to death, without being able to rescue your precious Sakura?"

Eyes still closed, Kariya spoke. "Tell me what you came to say, then get out."

"Fine, fine," Zouken said. "I'll make this quick, then. Order your Servant to harvest some souls; if you do that, you'll share your burden with others, and you might survive this long enough to see the former Tohsaka again."

"I... I can't," Kariya said. "There's no way I would do something that evil. I'm not you, I won't bring innocents into this war."

"Isn't Sakura's life more important to you than theirs? Nameless masses, running about with no real meaning or purpose to them."

"I thought you might have something of actual use for me," Kariya said. "But it's far too inhumane for me to ever consider it. Now get out."

He rolled onto his side in the bed, facing away from Zouken's voice.

"Your wish is my command, Master." Zouken laughed. Kariya heard the sound of a door opening, closing, and footsteps.

He was gone.

_But... he's right, isn't he?_

Kariya began to cry, the physical pain driving him to do so.

His neck felt like it was burning him from the inside out.

_If I can't make it through... no, I can't die yet. I have to take off whatever burdens I can, otherwise I really won't last. But I don't want to increase the number of victims of this savage ritual. That would be an insult to everything I'm fighting for, to save Sakura. There must be another way._

He sat up, and opened his eyes.

The light, meager though it was, penetrated his vision. It seemed that Zouken had switched on the light as he left the room.

_Bastard._

_Well, now that I think about it, there may indeed be another way. Worth a shot._

 

Kariya journeyed to the forest on the outskirts of Fuyuki City. Not the Einzbern forest, for he would never risk angering them, not this early in the war.

"I summon thee! Appear, Berserker!"

His stomach convulsed, as it sent bile far up his throat. He tasted it. It tasted of blood.

He doubled over, as his Servant appeared before him.

Lio looked at Kariya. He cocked his head, apparently waiting for orders. The insanity of the Berserker class rendered him incapable of normal speech; their only method of communication was the Servant dreams Kariya had of Lio's previous life. He wished their link were strictly a matter of business, of co-operation for victory in the Holy Grail War. He had no desire to associate with such a vulgar person, driven by their basest instincts to behave as an animal.

To hurt others, without any regard for their desires or happiness.

He bit his lip, to drown out the pain that was assailing his skull.

"Berserker... Go into the forest. Find whatever you can, anything that is alive. Take it, kill it, and absorb its energy."

Lio snarled. He got on all fours, faced the forest, and roared. Then, he ran, his speed on his arms and legs easily rivalling any human runner. Probably faster than a jaguar, approaching bullet train speeds.

As he penetrated the forest, the sheer speed of his entry created a wind behind him, pulling leaves off trees and shaking them to the roots.

_Good... hopefully this will be enough. Then..._

He couldn't think any more. The feeling in his arms was gone, soon his legs would give way too. He was in a park, late at night when there were no other humans around.

He laid down on a nearby bench, and let himself fall asleep. He silently commanded Berserker to return to him when he was done, having consumed his fill.

Now, sleep took him away from his earthly torment.

* * *

 

As I sip this drink, I think how much more delicious it would be to sip her blood. Open a hole in her vein, and suck it out, like milk from a nipple.

I sit in this cafe, watching her, and him.

He talks to her, and laughs at his own jokes and stupidity.

She looks at him, not allowing herself to laugh, but I can tell she finds him amusing.

I tighten the grip of my jaw on the straw of my drink.

It breaks.

Coffee.

What do I need it for? The Bloodchip is far more powerful, far more energizing, far more clarifying, far more...

Liberating.

It brings me out of these weak shackles that I can't even break out of on my own, with my normal self.

It leads me to fully become who I must, become the man I know I am.

I want to break out of this shell, like a membrane covering me.

I am an egg, and within me lives a powerful phoenix that has to fly and die and burn and kill.

I feel the multiplicity within. I feel the constant roiling vortex within me. Every nature, every sort of archetype is contained within my soul, and I need to express it or I WILL GO CRAZY.

I am so frustrated, like a pipe that is blocked. The pressure builds, and if I don't let it go, open the valve, I will explode.

Quickly.

I can see it within her. I can see the same spinning, crazy whirling in her soul.

In her it all spirals down to nothingness, and from there it loops in on itself and curls, and becomes everything.

And it just goes up and down and up and down and in and out.

And I _love_ it.

I know that she has within her exactly the thing that I need, the thing that can give me perfect expression and quiet this etrnal war inside me between my parts.

So quickly. I need to do it now.

I will crush his head, and I will drink the blood from his neck hole. It will shoot up, filling the sky with red rain, and I will stand under it and let it fall into my mouth.

Then, once I have consumed him and absorbed him, I will bring his essence to bear in my frontal aspect. And Ryougi will see me, and she will allow me in.

Then, I will go inside her and she and I will become one.

Then I will be free.

I will finally be free of this...

Pain.

* * *

 

Kariya woke up, the sounds of slobbering and dripping on him.

Was it raining?

No, it was his Servant.

Lio stood above his reclining form, a squirrel -- to be precise, half of a squirrel -- in his mouth. A smile, a wide grin on his face. He jumped up and down, like a dog expecting a pat on the head from its master.

Kariya put a hand over his face, to shield himself from the blood of the squirrel. It sickened him, watching his Servant behave this way. Still, anything was better than suffering through the point of view that he did in his dreams. He wished he would never sleep, so that he could perhaps only limit his pain.

But he knew that if he didn't sleep, soon enough the link between him and Lio would invade his conscious mind and then he would no longer be able to distinguish reality from dream. And then, all would be truly lost. He would become as insane as his Servant, and at that point he would only want to be killed.

_Please, don't let it ever get that bad._

Then, he noticed something.

_My mana output to Berserker hasn't changed. Or, if it did, it's far too little to make a noticeable difference._

_I'm going to die, like this._

_Well, if that's how it will be, so it will be. Que sera sera, and all that._

He stood up, and began walking back towards the Matou Manor. His legs were still weak, and he limped on his left side. Soon, the extra weight he was putting there would just lead that leg too to collapse, and then he would be stuck in the park for some child to find in the morning. Half-dead of frostbite and mana loss, he would be a frightening sight.

He didn't want any child to suffer like that.

No one should suffer like that... as he had.

As he walked, his Servant followed him. He didn't follow behind, though; he ran in circles around Kariya, as if taunting him with his athletic ability. The squirrel corpse was long devoured, and now Lio just stole more and more of Kariya's strength to exercise his low nature.

_Animal._

Kariya ignored him, and kept walking.

As they neared the public road, Lio suddenly started moving very closely to Kariya. Matching him step for step. Kariya could feel his hot, moist breath on his neck.

"Get away," he said. "Why don't you dematerialize when I don't need you? It's a waste of my mana."

Berserker ignored his words, and caressed Kariya's shoulder. He panted as he did so.

Kariya stiffened, and stopped.

"If you move to harm me, I will stop you with a Command Spell," he said, without turning around.

Lio jumped back. Kariya turned, and saw him crouched in a corner, gnawing on his own forearm.

_What a waste. Doesn't he realize that by consuming himself, he can't possibly achieve a net gain in magical energy? Or... are his instincts so insatiable that he must try to sate them in this false manner, by consuming himself? How pitiful._

Kariya scoffed.

_Be that as it may, there is indeed a great difficulty here. If I cannot sacrifice innocents to Lio, and animals are insufficient... Only one path remains. In that sense, there really is no difficulty. I know what I must do. For now, anyway, until a suitable replacement should be found._

Kariya pulled up his right sleeve. The arm underneath was pale, almost translucent. He had spent the better part of the previous year in a deep dark cellar, so his skin had adopted this unhealthy hue of a shut-in.

Aside from the various other maladies he earned in that time.

He flexed his right fist. Opening, and closing it, he watched the tendons expand and contract. His muscles too had shrunk, to the point that they were now barely noticeable. His arm was like a stick with some flaccid flesh spread over it.

But the veins and arteries stood within that landscape. Despite the weakness of his arm, blood still flowed through it. And as he pumped his fist, the vessels swelled and gained prominence.

After a few minutes, he judged it sufficient, and let his fist loosen. His arm hung slack at his side.

"Berserker!" he called to the Servant, still chewing on the flesh of his own body.

Lio galloped toward him, like an ape using its hands to propel itself forward on the ground.

Upon reaching Kariya, he noticed the exposed arm. Like he was drawn by a smell of slaughter, he inched towards it.

Slowly, slowly.

"Do what you must," Kariya said. "It's better than the alternative."

Lio licked the flesh of Kariya's forearm, running his tongue from the wrist to the elbow.

Kariya winced, but kept his eyes open. He needed to watch, just in case his Servant forgot himself and took more than he should. Certainly, he couldn't risk the arm being severed if too much was taken.

His Command Seals were on that hand.

Lio had found a vein. He put his mouth to it, and sucked on the flesh.

As the negative pressure drew the flesh into his mouth, Kariya felt it being torn. Maintaining the suction, Lio's sharp canines bit off a chunk right atop the vein.

Kariya felt the blood flow out, but saw nothing.

Lio drank it all.

It was a sickening sensation, his life leaving him as a blood sacrifice at the altar of victory.

But would this god that he offered it to, the corrupted, twisted, evil god that governed this charade of a contest, this Holy Grail War that was anything but... would he repay Kariya in kind? Would he compensate him for his losses, appreciate the worship?

Or would he laugh at him, spit on him, and stab him with the gnarled wooden staff of pain?

The latter seemed far more likely.

And yet, Kariya continued. He gave of himself to the Servant, fully aware of his own limitations. He endured the pain.

For the sake of that one, small light at the heart of the darkness.

So there was nothing too hard, no sacrifice too great. His life was entirely without meaning anyway. At least now, he had a chance, however slim, of achieving that which he had always sought.

So he felt the dull hum, the ache of his magical energy being transferred to his Servant. And he relished it, because he knew that with every drop of blood, he moved one step closer to victory.

Eventually, he felt he might die if he gave any more. He told Berserker to stop, and he did.

As Kariya tore off the sleeve had rolled up, and bandaged the wound on his arm, Lio opened his mouth in a wide grin.

His tongue flicked at the corners of his face, lapping up droplets of Kariya's vital fluids. His eyes bulged out of their sockets, and he laughed.

It was the most human thing Kariya had seen him do so far, and it made him want to vomit. There was nothing human about his Servant, and there never had been. Even before the shackles of madness inherent to the Berserker Class were placed on him, Lio Shirazumi was the worst kind of being that called itself 'human.' The sort that should have been killed immediately, euthanized by any better elements of society that possibly could do so.

And so this viscerally human act, laughter, was so unlike his Servant's animalistic nature, that Kariya felt great fear.

Lio tilted his head back, stared at the moon, and laughed hysterically.

His shoulders shook with the force of his laughter, which to Kariya seemed to shake the earth and heavens. Nothing seemed stable anymore, like reality was being ripped apart.

He tried to steady his mind.

 _You're overreacting. Calm down,_ he told himself.

"Berserker," he said. "You've had your fill. Now, begone."

Lio made no sign of having heard his Master's order, except to slowly fade away into a black cloud, still cackling.

Even after his form was completely dissolved into smoke, and was blown away by the whistling night breeze, the sound remained.

It haunted Kariya as he walked home, his grip on the world slipping all the way.

 

Kariya stood at the bottom of the staircase leading to the Crest Worm pit in the basement of the Matou Manor. He watched the writhing mass gurgle below him.

In that sea of worms Sakura had floated, risen, and sunk for so long. And now, she was somewhere else. She was still dead, still lost to the world and to Kariya, but she was alive. And she had been saved, at least for now.

Kariya took pride in that, thoguh he hated himself for letting it happen in the first place.

Not like he could have done anything to stop it, but...

Maybe if he hadn't turned his back on Magecraft, his Father would never have thought to adopt a girl from another family? Maybe.

Maybe... Maybe that was the wrong choice after all.

He had been selfish.

He had prioritized his own happiness, without giving a thought to the possible consequences that could bring on another. Someone innocent. Someone completely unselfish, who didn't deserve to suffer like this.

And now, in order to ensure he does not make the same mistake again, he was going to willingly subject himself to the torment.

He sat on the step leading into the pit, and let his right arm hang over the side.

Immediately, the worms smelled it and jumped onto him. Like leeches, they cut circles in his flesh and burrowed in as they sucked.

The pain was unbearable. But he bore it.

He felt their unholy power filling him, like his soul was being invaded by a powerful demon.

He lay on his back, intent only on enduring it, while trying to shut the outside world from his consciousness.

His arm began to take shape again, to be filled with blood pumping. But the blood didn't feel like his own. It felt like some foreign body that had been inserted into him, that had been used to build a doll that resembled him in only the barest way, but which was dead inside. Devoid of the spark of soul that makes a thing human.

_Is that what I am?_

The pain, despite coming with renewed, borrowed strength was sending him into the sweet depths of dark unconsciousness.

_Is that all I am? A doll? Is that what I have been fighting for?_

_The right to make myself a machine, as I pursue the salvation of something that only doubtfully still exists._

_Sakura has been ravaged by the worms far too long. I look in those eyes and I see only a dull reflection of a cloudy mirror. There is no life in her._

_Even if I save her now, I can never undo what she went through here. I can never take those memories away from her. I can never take those wounds away from her body and soul._

_So why am I still here?_

_This pain kills me over and over again._

_If I could only see a single, small smile... I could have the strength to continue this forever. I wouldn't need the worms to give me strength with pain to feed my Servant. I'd push myself, somehow, and I'd make it work. I know I would._

_But even that! Even the smallest sign I don't get. Only Zouken's empty promises exist to comfort me._

_As I wake I am surrounded by the proof of my own incompetence, and as I sleep I am related to the worst dregs of humanity. There is no escape from the feelings of death and inferiority. I want to end it all already, but I know that if I did that would only be a confirmation of my cowardice._

_I just have to pretend. I have to pretend there is a smile. I have to light the light of hope in my heart on my own, and pretend that it's real._

_I have to establish some connection to reality and happiness -- or is that fantasy? No matter. I don't care what is real or fake anymore. Nothing matters anymore._

_Even if it's a lie, I have to pretend there is hope. So that maybe, one day, I can finally break out of this endless torture and wake in the light. I know there's no chance of it happening, but I will do it anyway._

_But if that light is going to be worth anything, I can't get it by stepping on another. The pain of knowing that someone else suffered to grant me my dream would sully it, defile it such that I could never attach myself to it. I would end up like Zouken, an evil vampire, a creature of shadows. Whether or not I actually am confined to the darkness in reality, I would always be a prisoner of my own heart. The voices inside would never let me rest, always calling me to task for my sins, making me wish I were dead._

_And if that happened, would I be any better off than I am now?_

_So that is the one thing I cannot allow._

His arm felt now like it was full to bursting. He opened his eyes and looked at it.

The worms crawled through it, inside. He felt as if there were no bones in his arm, only ossified worms. They moved as his muscles, the flowed as his blood, they felt as his nerves.

He stood up, shakily.

He looked down into the worm pit.

_I am no longer a man, but a worm._

_But I shall sacrifice myself for the good of men. I do not hate them, but love them. I only hate myself. I will only turn my hatred inward, and let it consume my own body. For what is the harm in killing something that is already dead? None. We might only gain thereby, reincorporating the refuse back into the endless cycle of death and rebirth._

_I will purge myself of all good, and in the pain that I feel I shall sacrifice myself on the altar of salvation. I shall become nothing but a shell, an empty vessel, a hole. And as a hole, I shall be filled with the only thing that matters, and I shall pour it upon those whom I choose._

_I shall be filled with the only thing deeper than despair, the only thing wider than pain and sharper than regret._

_I shall be filled with love. And no matter who or what exists in that body of the person called 'Sakura,' I shall give her my love._

_And then there will be nothing left, and I will be free._

He turned around, and began walking up the stairs.

_So come, Sakura. Let me love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> I really quite like writing Kariya. Whenever, as I did when I finished this chapter, I get a feeling like I want to vomit when writing him, I feel satisfied that I did all right.
> 
> What a sick soul...
> 
> Anyway, there's a fair bit of commonality between certain stories written by Urobuchi Gen, such as Fate/Zero and Madoka. I won't spoil Madoka here but I was decently influenced by some of it here.
> 
> I've been rewatching Canaan. Good Nasu stuff. Got a lot of Fate and Kara no Kyoukai in it.
> 
> I hope you liked it, and I'd like to do some more chapters just to get properly acquainted with all the Master/Servant pairs... not sure which I'll do next, but we shall see.
> 
> See ya next time!


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